RMS Titanic: Love Found and Lost at Sea
by ShunKazamis-Girl
Summary: While travelling to America with England on R.M.S Titanic, you two fall in love. But an iceberg will make the ship sink and that might split you both apart. Written exclusively on the 100th Anniversary of R.M.S Titanic, April 10-15, 1912-2012. ReaderXEngland. Now with omake chapter, note, and edited chapters.
1. April 8, 9, and 10, 1912

**Eugene: **Hello there, welcome to my story of the ship _Titanic_. *bows* I'm writing this in the memory of _RMS_ _Titanic_, possibly the finest ocean liner in the world. Maybe even the biggest. Ok, so this is a Hetalia story here and I've seen people writing AmericaXEngland with the _Titanic_ together (I'm not sure why), but to make mine different from others, it will be ReaderXEngland and it's different from the Hetalia retellings of James Cameron's movie. But don't worry, you'll meet some of the other countries along the way. The chappies started on the day _Titanic_ sailed, while still ongoing during the 100 year streak (since she's about 100 years old now as I'm writing this). Anyway, while most of my writing's fiction, some of the stuff here will be non-fiction. Other than that, please enjoy. ONWARD WITH MY TITANIC READER-INSERT! RMS TITANIC: LOVE FOUND AND LOST AT SEA!

**Monday. April. 8, 1912**

_**London**_**, **_**England**_

The skies were starting to get a tad bit dark and it started to get cold as a spray of seawater was splashed in the docks. It looked dreary at a distance but _nothing_ was dreary compared to what just happened.

"WHAT! WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE SHIP IS FULL?" You almost screamed at the top of your lungs.

"I'm sorry, lassie, but there's just too many passengers here waitin' to go to America." The short, crusty-looking captain tried to calm you down. "We ain't having enough room to ship one more- DARN IT, I MUST GO!" The funnels of the small ship shot out gray clouds of steam once more as the crew called out to their captain, saying that they must take off quickly. The ship sailed off quickly away from the Thames River and disappeared into the now-rising fog.

You just stood there in the dock, feeling quite upset. The now-expired boat ticket crumbled in your hand as you curled your right fist tightly. You see, your parents were not there with you here in London because they moved to The United States of America (or America for short), since they both got new jobs there. They had enough for _two_ tickets to America on another ship, but unfortunately, they could not save enough money to take _you_.

So there they were, on another country at the other side of the Atlantic, while you had to stay at different places around London for quite a while. Even if you ended up all alone after that, for about a year now, your parents promised that once they saved enough money for your own ticket, you will be reunited with them. You stayed with your grandparents, sometimes you stayed with your aunts, uncles, and cousins, while other times, you would stay with one of your friends or schoolmates. Even with that sort of generosity, you cannot help but still sensing the loneliness.

While your parents were gone and you were staying with other members in your family, you would help out in whatever jobs needed employers, even if it required something like child labour (although it may have be abolished by now). You would also baby-sit or tutor younger children whenever time was spared. Heck, you even had to stop going to school (you will go again soon, once you return, that is) because of those things! The reason for doing so was because you had to save some money to buy a boat ticket so that you would go to America. The pay you received all those months were a little less than what you expected, but nevertheless, you managed to save enough for your own pass so that you can join your family there in New York City, the capital of the American state called New York. But now here you were, still in London (capital city of England) because the ship itself was now full!

To you, it seemed that the departure of the boat was the price of too many passengers and tardiness, but at this rate, it felt more like you're losing hope. Wondering where to go now, your eyes were distracted by a motorcar (a black Ford Model T) passing by. Inside, a stiff-looking man was driving _someone_ to- wherever that person was heading. Somehow, you noticed that the person seemed quite familiar and felt as if he possessed something… quite inhuman. Without thinking rationally, you ran off after the automobile.

"HEY! HOLD IT RIGHT THERE! PLEASE DO STOP THIS MOTOR CAR!" You yelled after the driver, who in turn looked scared and tried to drive faster away from you.

"S-SLOW DOWN, THERE'S SOMEONE HERE THAT I WANT TO SEE-" You tried to pant out, but then grew tired from running so vigorously. After a few deep breaths, you took off your button-boots and your stockings so that they will not be so dirty before running off again.

It was trickier to run, of course, due to you running barefoot and all that. You had also tripped a few times, a habit of yours. But it became no use though, as it grew dark in the streets and you could not see the motor car anymore. Finding it difficult to see, you didn't realize that you fell down nearby a hotel somewhere and that you passed out from sudden exhaustion.

"…._wake up_. _Wake up._" You heard a man's voice now, somehow it sounded quite soothing until-

"_BLOODY HELL_! _WAKE UP_,_ YOU SILLY GIRL_!" Now frightened, you instantly opened your eyes and you ended up flipping over, landing back-first on the floor.. _from the bed_? Funny, you do not remember being in a bed so.. fancy yet comfortable.

Confused, you now found yourself staring at a man, about his early twenties (actually, about twenty-three). He had sandy-blond hair that shimmered like wheat-gold in the light, fair pale skin, and bright green eyes that seemed to be like emeralds. You also noticed that his eyebrows looked quite thick at a distance, although it looked normal in your eyes. Right now, he seemed to look at you in what seemed to be in disbelief.

"What in bloody hell were you doing here, chasing after me?" The young man demanded, making you frightened again. You eeped and curled into a red-faced ball.

"P-Please do not y-y-yell at me, Mr.-" Realizing that you do not know this man in the first place, you peeked a little and squinted a bit hard. If he was the man who you were chasing after, then didn't he look… familiar? You took the time to try to remember who he was before finding the voice to speak again.

"Do you happen to be Mr. Arthur Kirkland?" You asked him curiously.

"Well, er… yes, but-"

"Or should I say, _England_?" You then cut him off with the next words, stopping him of his actions. He turned pale at this.

"How- How dare you, recognizing me as a _country_." He hissed, confirming that you were right. His hands looked as if he wanted to strangle you to death.

"My, uh-" You were not sure how to tell him, that you know that he's a mere country. Then it hit you. "_I believe my parents had worked for you_?"

The man, Arthur, or in your defence, _England_, froze again, his face now replaced by confusion, shocked at your words.

"My mother and my father-" You swallowed a bit of saliva before continuing. "they had to take your place at a few of your meetings with other countries when you would be too busy.. or sick. Clearly, they were the first and only, um, _mortals_ that you allowed to take your place at such situations? They were Mr. [_last name_] and Mrs. [_last name_]. I am their daughter, [_full name _(_first and last name_)]. It is nice to meet you." England seemed surprised at your words but still, he continued to listen.

"My parents had told me about you and some of your, um.. acquaintances with other countries in this planet." You explained. Waiting for a reaction of some sort, England's face now changed from confused to a somewhat relieved look.

"So you do not mean harm to me?" He asked you. Embarrassed at that thought, you just shook your head.

"No, sir." Was all you could say. Then you heard a light chuckle from him.

"Well, then. I guess I do not have anything to worry about then.." That made you relax; he seemed safe enough. "But pray tell, what were you doing out there in the streets of London?"

"I-" Now _that_ question made you quite a bit sad. You sniffled quietly, making England look at you in concern with his confused face again.

"My parents are in America and I was going to move there with them, but there was a problem with transportation." You tried to explain, hoping to not choke on your sudden tears. "I used to have a ticket to another ship to get there- but alas, the ship was too full to carry more passengers. However, I do think that it was just a excuse to not let me in alone… I must get there to America for yet another reason; I have a childhood friend of mine from across the sea." Everything you said was true, even the latter.

"And who that might be?" England raised his eyebrow.

"Alfred. Alfred F. Jones. He is an American; but he is actually the country of America, in case you were wondering. Alfred had also told me a bit about you." England's emerald-green eyes widened and his body looked stiff, not realizing that you know _him_ as well (you knew more people than he would think). "He also has a brother… I believe his name is Matthew Williams, also known as the country of Canada. I knew them ever since I was a young child, before my parents started to work for you. Despite his personality, he was a dear friend to me. So not only my mother and my father are in America by now, but also Alfred as well; he has been helping them settle in New York City, which I will live in."

A minute of silence happened and you found out that talking about America made you realize that you missed him again as well as your parents. It went on like that until England spoke.

"So you knew them.. even before your parents worked for me?" He asked and you nodded. In England's breath, he said something that sounded like 'America, you bloody wanker.'

"….Yes, well.. but now I cannot reach any of them anymore! And I am the only one left!" You let out a wail as you ended up sobbing into your father's navy blue wool coat, the one with many functional pockets. It was not very loud, but certainly not the kind you would expect from a bratty child. It went on for a while, until to your surprise, England held you close for a bit and even stroked your hair in comfort.

"Shh.. it's ok, love. I know it must be hard…" He said to you softly in your ear. Then, as if you have some sort of magical senses, you felt that he had an idea.

"Well, I _am_ about to be heading to visit America as well. For business, rather, as I will have a meeting with all of the other countries in about a week or so. Although, it may be also for pleasure, since I want him to be jealous and show off in the flashest way possible… anyway, one of the other countries, France,.." You felt him cringe at the mention of the country. "did gave me an extra ticket to a ship heading off from Southampton, but that frog must've been impatient, for he left to America's land _early_, leaving me behind with two tickets!" England then stood up and pouted a bit as he thought of that very day. You saw his cheeks puffed up with air. "But since I still have the tickets, it would be a shame for me to use one of them and waste the other one away…"

Then he turned to you and knelt down in front of your curled-up form. He said in a hopeful tone, "Miss [_last name_], how would you like to go to America with me?"

You absolutely cannot believe it; you, with England, the country of your birth and the young man you have only just met, heading off to America (excuse me, the land) together, and pretty soon, you'll get to see your family again. As well as America and maybe even Canada. This could be a great opportunity, possibly the only one in your life (at least that was what you thought).

You wanted nothing more! "I shall be delighted to!" Feeling a burst of happiness replacing your former emotions, you rose up to give him a heartfelt hug. From what England had received, you could've sworn that he blushed into a dark red colour.

"A-Ah, yes, of course." He then straightened himself up and you finally let go of him. "Then you shall meet me at Waterloo Station from the Underground tomorrow morning. Make sure you remember to pack your things and wear proper attire. But if you do not have that sort of clothing, well… I shall have to figure out something."

England then left the hotel (you later learned that he was currently staying at Claridge's) with you, as he offered to walk you back to where you had last stayed while your parents were gone. As he dropped you off to the house of one of your schoolmates (you were currently staying there at time) and you saw him leaving, the only things that went on in your mind were the fear of leaving London, your friends, and your family members behind and the excitement of seeing your parents and America again in a new land. It felt as if your feelings were hopping mad like a rabbit, changing every time.

Next stop, New York City!

**Tuesday. April. 9, 1912**

_**Waterloo Station**_**, **_**Onward from London to Southampton**_

After saying goodbye to your schoolmate (and promising to write along the way), you were on your way to your journey.

Fortunately for you, your schoolmate's house was close to the station, allowing you to walk there in only a couple minutes. You were carrying a carpetbag consisting of a few pieces of clothing, which were underclothes, stockings, a simple blouse, your favourite lilac-coloured dress, a gray skirt, a few sweaters, your navy blue coat, and a favourite book of yours. It was not much as people would've expected though, but since your parents had to take most of your other clothing and possessions with them to New York City, that was all you had left.

As you arrived to Waterloo Station, you searched around for England, wondering where could he be. You had to rush back and forth, finding your way around the place. It felt like a labyrinth.

You finally found him, wearing a crisp white button-down shirt (the one with long sleeves and buttoned-up cuffs), a black vest, an emerald-green tie, dark gray trousers, and polished black shoes. He was watching his luggage (He carried how many trunks? Three? Four?) being stowed away with the others when he saw you.

"Ah, Miss [_last name_], you're here." He greeted to you pleasantly, although you heard him sigh a little as he saw your current travelling outfit (you were wearing a blue long-sleeved dress, a smaller plaid coat [that one used to be your mother's] a pair of stockings, and your dependable button-boots while your hair was tied up into a simply elaborate bun and a pocket watch insude your pocket, the chain hanging loose). You were not sure why, but perhaps that in your eyes, a country like him must be in first-class, while someone like him may see you in second or third-class quite easily (the both being true).

Shrugging those kinds of thoughts in your mind, you asked him, "Is this train heading to Southampton?"

"It is. By next morning, we will take what is called 'the Boat Train' to our ship that will be heading to America." England explained.

"Really? I thought that there would be a large crowd of passengers here, since I have heard that the station can be busy in the morning until the late afternoon." You gestured to the people in the railroad station.

"Well, no; most of my citizens would also be taking the Boat Train the next day as well."

"Ah… I see."

At the railroad station, England paid for your ticket as well as his. As the two of you found seats, the train pulled out of the station and you took a last look at what was left of London as the train itself sped up. This would possibly be the last time that you would ever be in the city of your birth.

The train headed out from London to nearby towns and was now at the British countryside somewhere, speeding past bright green fields, colourful spring flowers, and every once in a while, you would see a quaint cottage or a slightly sprawling mansion tucked into the grass. It was truly beautiful, the countryside. You have never been out to the country very often, to tell you the truth, as most of your entire family lived from small towns to big cities such as London. A bit of fresh air wafted from the gap of the slightly sooty windows and it felt refreshing in your lungs.

Then as the trip went on halfway, you heard voices from the other passengers of the train. Most in whispers, but your hearing was strong enough to hear even the quietest voice.

"Which ship we're headin' to again?"

"The _Titan_- hold on, what was the ship called again?"

"Just agree that it's the finest ocean liner in the world, you git!"

"It is?"

"Yes. Apparently, I heard that it is also the largest. Maybe even the fastest."

"Well, it better be more comfortable than my own house…"

All those words had got you curious; what was the ship that they mentioned? Was it the one that you and England would be taking tomorrow? You tugged on the sleeve of England's shirt as he was looking at the scenery outside as well (but he was using the window on the other side).

"England- I mean, _Arthur_." You had to correct yourself quickly, realizing that if you call him by his country name, things would go quite badly. "You do know that you have not told me _which_ ship that we will take. What is the name of the ship exactly?"

"The ship?" England asked you. As you nodded, he said. "Ah yes, the one that we will be taking, Miss [_last name_], is the _RMS Titanic_. The finest and the largest ocean liner in the world." He turned his view to the window again, not saying another word.

"_So that must be the name… Titanic. Are we really taking that ship_?" You cannot help but to wonder. Your thinking got cut short, however, as the conductor shouted out the name of the next hamlet.

**Wednesday. April. 10, 1912**

_**Southampton**_**, **_**The South Western Hotel**_**, **_**RMS Titanic**_

From what you could remember from the rest of yesterday, the trip went alright, as you found the chugs and whistles a little startling yet exhilarating as it moved. England fell asleep halfway though, making you think that he must've not slept much after he dropped you off from Claridge's last night and that he needs to catch some more sleep even after he just came here. Fortunately, he woke up in time as the train made it to Southampton and people began to get out of the train.

For most of the afternoon and the evening, you two had been staying at the South Western Hotel. The hotel itself was quite nice, although you remembered that Claridge's was probably fancier than this. You can smell the seawater there but you can scarcely see the quays, let alone the ships in the harbour beyond. This may be because the room that you and England were sharing a room that was low by elevation. Nevertheless, Southampton looked quite nice and you enjoyed watching the ships either leaving, arriving, or just passing by.

After you woke up, you heard the sound of running water from the bathroom. The door was slightly ajar and you peeked to find England washing up. Drying his face with a fluffy towel, he paused at his present action to find you standing at the door.

"Good morning, Miss [_last name_]. Did you sleep well?" He greeted.

"Well, not much at first. But I slept fine. I'm just about to wash up as well-" Your eyes then strayed to where your carpetbag used to be; it used to be by your bed, but now it was missing. "Pray tell, where is my carpetbag? It was here last night but-"

He held up a hand as a signal of silence. "Relax, I only put it inside one of my trunks for security." He pointed to one of the few trunks leaning on the wall. "The small one shall have to be yours, though, by the time we reach the Titanic."

"Why?" You just said. What England said had got you confused; why would he make you carry such a bigger object such as a trunk while your carpetbag was stowed away?

"Because," He hung the towel that he was using and kept his eyes on you as he explained. "the tickets that France bought are for first-class, as in rich and famous individuals. Since I am a country myself and that I have enough money as much as a first-class person, therefore, I have to be travelling in first-class. But since you are in- pardon me, but what class do you belong in?"

"Um.. second-class, I think?" You were unsure because to be honest, it was a tad bit hard for you to notice the second-class or the third-class. The first-class people were all easily noticeable though. After making that confirmation, you were _definitely_ sure that you were in second-class.

England let out a small 'ah' before continuing. "Yet since you are accompanying me with me and you now have the other ticket, you must travel to first-class. However, the first-class are quite… well, extravagant, to put it that way. They tend to dress the best and therefore, you must do so as well. I have to put some clothing there that might be appropriate for first-class, yet they might also work well with your taste."

Keeping that piece of advice in mind, you went back into the room to check.

As you rushed over to a bigger trunk and opening it, you noticed that your carpetbag was there (thank god, you thought to yourself). Inside the small were other clothing that you have not seen before, except in some clothing stores from Savile Row. There was a pair of shiny black shoes with a small heel, petticoats, stockings, two high-necked blouses, two pairs of gloves (one pair was made of white lace), two hats (one was decorated with many ribbons and flowers while the other just had a ribbon band on it, the ends tied into a bow), a few coloured skirts, a white wool coat with black lining, a lacy nightgown with embroidered flowers, and three dresses inside. One dress was bright, blushing pink, another one in a paisley pattern, and the final one was, even though you cannot fully see it, made of silk in violet with silver lace at the trim, which you assumed that it was the fanciest of them all, as it will be used for special occasions on the ship. You thanked England as you made your way to the bathroom.

After washing up yourself and changing into the pink dress, one of the fancy petticoats, button-boots (the dress was long enough to hide them, anyway), the hat with the ribbon band, and the lace gloves (well, the first-class people would not want to see 'hideous convent discards' among themselves), you joined up with him for breakfast. As the two of you ate, you asked him many questions about _Titanic_ herself. From what you heard from him (as well as the other people in the hotel who also appeared to be _Titanic_ passengers), you have learned that 1. RMS means for 'Royal Mail Steamer' or 'Royal Mail Ship', which can also carry all sorts of mail and cargo, 2. Titanic, along with her sister ships, _Olympic_ and _Gigantic_, were owned by the White Star Line and they were built in Belfast, Ireland (which England later stated that Ireland's one of his older brothers), and 3. _Titanic_ was actually a new ship, recently built. Today will be her maiden voyage and many people were quite excited in all this commotion, something that you would notice from other people.

There would've been a lot more questions about the ship that you want answers for, but England politely informed you that once you get inside, they will all be answered. Well, most of them, anyway.

You and England then took the Boat Train, the two of you watching curiously as the train crossed Canute Road and approaching the quay. As the train stopped, it became more difficult to make your way through the crowd, as more people tried to get inside the ship (wherever it was at the moment). Trunks, bags, and overstuffed boxes were piled everywhere, making you wonder how would anyone in the world organize all this. By the time England had managed to find a less busy space to get into the ship, it cleared long enough to see her. The ship of dreams.

_This was Titanic herself._

She was, well, there were many words to describe her really. But the best you could sum it up was that it was _the biggest you had ever seen._ From one end, you could see a great black hull and on the other end… it looked as if it stretched great enough that you cannot see the other end. It seemed to tower most of the buildings and it smelled a bit of fresh paint leftover from the last few days. _Titanic_ looked mighty yet regal, just standing there. You would've thought that was impossible until now. Realizing that England was calling you over, you snapped out of your thoughts and headed right into the ship.

Luckily for you and England, the two of you were not late; in fact the ship was just about to leave for her maiden voyage. The luggage and the cabins (you assumed that was what sailors would call the rooms of the ship) would have to dealt later though. Everyone in the boat deck, the first, second, and third-class people were all packed together like a tin of Norwegian sardines. Finally finding more access in the B Deck, you saw people waving to the passengers below. Some threw flowers (either single or even full bouquets), some waved their hats or hankerchiefs, while others called out goodbyes. England just watched below while you waved with the others.

As soon as all of Southampton was gone, it occurred to you that you were now aboard the _RMS Titanic_, the finest ocean liner in the world, on your way to America!

**Eugene: **This may be the longest yet but it will get a bit shorter later on. Besides, this is only the beginning.

**[Edit: I made a few edits here in case of... well, flamers and haters (more info later on).]**

**[Edit 2: Did more edits… and a few changes, including rewriting my previous notes. Hope you don't mind.]**


	2. April 11, 1912

**Eugene: **This chapter is supposed to contain Day 2 of _Titanic_ while summing up the rest of Day 1 that I didn't put in. Oh, and the next few chapters, you will meet some of the other countries in there. However, since the setting was around April 1912, some of the relationships between countries will be different than you would normally think (I mean, this was _before_ World War I) so this will be completely difficult for me to write.. ^~^ ONWARD WITH CHAPTER 2!

**Thursday. April. 11, 1912**

_**R.M.S Titanic**_**, **_**Somewhere between Cherbourg**_**, **_**France and Queenstown**_**, **_**Ireland**_

When you woke up in your new four-poster berth, you had almost thought that you were still staying at a fancy hotel room, but the gentle bobbing of water made you remember that you're still at the Titanic, staying in the first-class staterooms.

After _Titanic_ left Southampton yesterday, there was a near-crash with a smaller ship called _New York _at the moment she left. The motion was so sudden, you tripped. Luckily, a tugboat named _Vulcan_ pulled _New York _out of the way.

Anyways, after the ship was getting comfortable in the water, a bedroom steward led you and England to cabins across each other. You did not mind, for it would be easier to find each other. Your entire room was decorated in many different shades of blue and it felt quite luxurious, but at the same time, terribly comfortable. Somewhere in your mind, you kept wondering that what made you earn the privilege to meet another country (and the one you were born in, too) other than America and Canada and traveling together at a great ship like this. Was it a stroke of luck? The fact that your parents used to work for England (and a few other countries)? Or was it because of his sympathy? You were quite not sure, but it could've been all of them.

Sometime last night, the ship stopped at Cherbourg, France at 6:30 PM (according to England during luncheon, France himself can be quite the extravagant sort and has an unusual desire for… well, love with either men or women; something that you find quite hard to believe). You and England did not see much out there, but at least you could see the coast. About 274 more passengers boarded _Titanic_ while 24 people took the tenders to get to shore. You could not help to feel, however, that some of the people that left Cherbourg, despite that they were also first-class, you sense something.. unusual about them. Kind of like the day when you spotted England in the automobile back at London.

It was not the only unusual thing that happened in the ship so far; by the time you got out of bed, you have noticed an English Rose on the small desk! From the looks of it, it _would_'_ve _been taken out from one of the arranged flowers in the room by the steward, but there were no English Roses among the bouquets.

"_Then who would_'_ve_ _gave it to me_…?" You thought to yourself wildly, hand still holding the delicate pink flower. You decided to try to find out later as you washed up. Changing into a high-necked blouse, a marigold-yellow skirt, and that pair of black heeled-shoes, you went across England's cabin and gently knocked at the door, hoping that he will reply.

"Yes?" Came a sleepy voice from the room.

"Arthur, the bugles have just announced that we should have breakfast right now. Are you up yet?" You called out.

"I am just about to, Miss [_last name_]." Said England, a little less tired this time. You heard the ruffling of bed sheets and clothing. "I shall meet you at the Grand Staircase in a few minutes."

"Alright." As you then walked around the halls, wondering where was the Grand Staircase was, since you and England had used it to reach the first-class dining saloon for evening meal dinner last night. After a few minutes of fruitless searching, you finally found it (fortunately for you, it was not far from the cabins). The broad mahogany steps, the dome-shaped glass ceiling, the cherub statue holding the light, and the beautifully carved wooden clock made it easily noticeable. By then, you feet felt exhausted and you sort of panted for breath. A few first-class passengers seemed to look at you curiously at this. About two minutes later, England had arrived, obviously in his best, as he is the gentleman (and first-class).

"Ah, now that you have made there yourself, where do you think we shall eat?" England had asked you, taking your hand to lead you downstairs.

"Hm… well, there are interesting options of where and what to eat.. perhaps the first-class dining saloon like last time? I do enjoy the fine cuisine there." You suggested.

"Very well, then." Finding the D Deck, he gestured to you to follow him. "Come along then, and follow me."

Something that you have noticed was that the classes listed had separate places of where to eat. When you notice the ones for first-class, they all looked like something straight from a fancy restaurant. The food was quite delicious, you may add in. Also, many people would sit with others in their own class and they would chatter about things from business to personal issues such as marriage, what was trending, and their opinions about the _Titanic_.

Today, however, you and England had to share the table with three first-class American ladies. They kept themselves attention-seeking and they fluttered their eyelashes at England, something that you had found odd. Perhaps they fancy him? England seemed fair enough to them but ignored their flirtatious behaviour (if there was one thing America told you back in your childhood, it would be that Americans can be.. strong-willed).

"Mr. Kirkland, are you heading to America for business or for pleasure?" One of the ladies, Elisabeth Robert, asked him while taking a sip of Earl Grey Tea.

"Well… perhaps a bit of both. Not only that I am going there for important business, but also to see a friend of mine." England, being the perfect gentleman, replied honestly.

"Mr. Kirkland, I do not wish to offend you anyway but-" The youngest, Georgette Madill, then pointed at you, causing you to look up from your meal of shirred eggs, sausage, and a jacketed potato. "Is that girl next to you your fiancée?" Shocked at this question, you blushed hard and you nearly choked on the food you were trying to swallow. You had managed to swallow again as soon as the second-youngest, Elisabeth Allen, gave a light shove to Georgette.

England seemed to blush at the question as well, but kept himself composed and said, "I-I apologize, but no, she is rather a friend of mine back in England."

"Oh… I see." Georgette replied. All three of the ladies shot you a glare but you did not completely notice this.

As soon as you and England were done eating, the ladies all left at once, giggling and whispering things about him. In fact, you had even heard the Miss. Allen saying, "Oh, Arthur is the perfect British gentleman in this ship, isn't he?"

"Please do not mind them." He reassured you, seeing your still-blushing face. "Remember that most of the first-class people can be arrogant at times and they can be jealous at.. things."

"Like what?" You had yet again to ask him curiously.

"Well, like-" England looked like he was unable to answer your question. But you just stroked his arm gently, as a gesture of saying that you do not mind if he cannot answer.

"If I may ask you, when was the last time you have wrote to your parents or to Alfred?" He then changed the subject.

"I- I do not recall, but I believe it was last month? For both of them, actually."

"Well, there is a writing room for the first-class in the A Deck. Perhaps you can write to them now?" He suggested, giving you a hopeful look in your eyes. "After all, Queenstown shall be the last opportunity to post letters."

"Yes, that is an excellent idea. Let's go now." You answered, giving off a small smile.

The first-class writing room had dark walls and comfortable plush chairs as well as many low wooden tables. It was not too crowded, as a few were writing letters while you also saw some children meeting up with their friends or playing cards. You and England found a table with two chairs without much difficultly and you peeked to find him writing a formal letter to someone. He must've been writing to his brothers, you presumed, complimenting to Ireland about _Titanic _as well as giving the others a short yet a sort-of polite greeting.

There were lots of postcards and fancy vellum stationary available and they all had the red flag with the White Star logo that you have seen in other items from menus to matchbooks. You slipped a few sheets of each in your pocket as a souvenir, hoping that others, especially England, will not mind. With two postcards, you wrote one to your parents here:

**Dear Mother and Father,**

**How are you lately? I missed you two terribly, as usual. Remember the stories that you two had told me about this bloke, Arthur Kirkland? As it turned out, I actually met him! As of now, we are traveling on the finest ocean liner in the world together. She is called **_**Titanic**_**. She looked quite grand for such a vessel, and quite comfortable, too. Now you two do not have to worry about saving up for my passage, as I will be arriving in New York City sometime later this week. I will explain more about the trip as I land.**

**From your dearest daughter,**

**[**_**first name**_**]**

And another, you wrote to America (or in this case, _Alfred_):

**Dear Alfred,**

**How was it back in your land? I have heard that America, the land itself, is more booming day by day, so to speak. Anyway, that man you called 'Iggy' is right here with me, sailing on **_**Titanic**_**! I bet you might be jealous. Something tells me that you would be red in anger and jealousy as you would pack off immediately just to see the ship yourself. Hehe, remember to meet me in the city with my parents. I will tell you EVERYTHING about my trip as I arrive in my new homeland. Cross my heart and hope to… suffer. Yes, that's it. Oh, and tell Matthew hello for me, although there might be a telegram waiting for the both of you.**

**-[**_**first name**_**]**

Finding another piece of stationary, you decided to try draw an accurate picture of _Titanic_ for America and Canada to look at. Although you learned how to draw at school before and was considered a good artist, it must've been a long while since you last did so, for you found it difficult to draw the ship properly. You almost crumbled up the stationary in frustration, but when people heard the sound, they gave you weird looks so you had to stop and keep drawing (with struggle, of course).

A broad-shouldered man with kind, clean-shaven features stopped next to the desk you and England were sitting on. He was walking around, possibly observing everyone for a couple minutes. He must've heard your drawing about to crumble, for he eyed at your sketching struggles.

"Please excuse my disruption." You tried to explain to the man, not noticing that he was there until now. "I am trying to send a picture to a dear friend of mine back in America whom I am terribly fond."

He just smiled at your explanation and said, "Ah, I see now. Would you care if I draw a quick diagram of the ship for you?"

He knew how to draw _Titanic_? Now that he mentioned it, it _would_ be nice to have a picture drawn by a professional. Besides, America and Canada would not notice it.. right? But then again, you realized, they would be quite disappointed when you told them that you did not draw it yourself.

"Thank you, but he would find it more treasuring if I draw _Titanic_ myself… however, will you be kind enough to show me how can I improve my own?"

Quick and happy to agree, he gave you instructions of what to draw and what to erase, starting to show some quick yet clean improvements.

"In that case, may I suggest that you angle the funnels more? Then just try for very clean lines. In long strokes, instead of attempting so much detail the shape." He instructed. As soon it was finished, the formerly-messy drawing morphed into a clean, very accurate picture complete with shading.

"There you go." He said before leaving. "I think you'll do very nicely now."

After putting the two letters and the drawing inside the envelopes, England stopped writing to take a close look at the leaving man.

"Bloody hell! That must've been Mr. Andrews!" He said in a low awed voice.

Hearing his statement, you said. "Well, he is a nice fellow, helping me to draw the ship."

"Technically, Miss [_last name_], he _designed_ _Titanic_ herself."

Realizing this, it would explain how Mr. Andrews knew how to draw that ship. Once the letters that you and England wrote were done, the ship made it to her next stop, Queenstown, Ireland (it was 11:30 AM at that point). You found the land full of sheer, stark cliffs and fields in many shades of green, with a wild, bewitching charm on it. Ireland looked so beautiful! About one-hundred and thirteen third-class passengers and seven second-class passengers came aboard while seven other passengers just left, all transported by yet again, tenders. At one point, England stuttered and blushed at the sight of one of the passengers leaving. You were not so sure why though…

_Titanic_ then headed off into the wide Atlantic Ocean on her way to New York in America. The weather grew a little bit colder so you had to put on the white coat with the black lining that you happened to carry along in case of times like these. Looking around, you saw the other first-class passengers shiver from their cold as their escorts would either lend them their coats or lead them back inside. Thank goodness you were wearing your own because sometimes, it's good to be prepared. The last thing you would do on the Atlantic was to freeze to death… or at the very least, grow frost and icicles everywhere, which sounded drastic, really.

Sometime after luncheon, England had to have a private discussion with someone on the ship so he excused you for a bit. You wandered around the first-class promenade deck, watching the islands, cliffs, and lighthouses passing by. Seagulls were flying by and there were even dolphins leaping out of the water! A rare sight for the maiden voyage of this ship. You were about to go back inside but you seemed distracted though, as the shoes felt slippery on the floor and you almost tripped, causing you to bump into someone and now there were bullets about to be shot upwards into the sky!

_Wait_, _bullets_?

You felt that again, that strange, mysterious feeling that you had experienced around England as well as what you may had sensed back in Cherbourg. Taking a couple steps back before turning around, you found yourself face-to-face with another first-class passenger, this time with slightly longer blond hair and darker green eyes. He seemed to be beyond in rage, for he had a pistol on his hand!

"What the hell you were doing, scaring me like that? Speak up!" He barked, startling you into taking faster steps backwards as you nervously raised your hands up in mock surrender and tried to look innocent. He positioned the pistol right at your direction.

"I-I-I… I did not mean to scare you all of a sudden, BUT PLEASE DO NOT HURT ME!" You ended up screaming it out a bit as you started to run, the many bronze-coloured bullets chasing after you as the man started yelling about something in another language (it sounded like German, perhaps?). Not many people seemed to notice, but a few did look up to see what was the matter. Some looked startled while others looked blank.

Another thing that you had just noticed was that Titanic can be so big that you can actually get tired _running_ around it, never mind _walking_! Unfortunately for you, you sort of learned that the hard way, for you slowed down from your running halfway around the Promenade. At least the bullets did not destroy her in any way, which was another rare thing… can that really happen?

For a moment, the bullets and the sound of the man following you were both gone, which made you relax a bit. You spoke too soon, though, for you sensed that mysterious feeling again and something told you that the man will shoot you now…

"MISS [_last name_], WHAT'S WRONG? WHY ARE YOU SUDDENLY- VASH, STOP SHOOTING AT THE YOUNG LADY THIS INSTANT!" Another voice suddenly erupted between the painful silence. It was England, his fair face pale with fear. His eyes turned deadly in the man's surprised gaze. You saw England snatching the pistol away and grabbing at his wrist high-up as he glared.

"Were you not told that it is a sin to kill someone as innocent like her here? Even for neutrality?" He said to the man with an icy tone in his voice, gesturing to you with a twist of his head.

"But she-"

"_Apologize_. _Now._"

The man tried to gave England a glare back, but then sighed in defeat and started to compose himself, politely pushing his hand away. He then turned to you and with an apologetic look on his face, he managed to say, "Please forgive me for trying to shoot you." before heading back inside. You saw that he put his pistol away in the folds of his pristine pure white coat.

England started to look for any injuries or anything quite dangerous as he asked you in a concerned voice, "All you alright?"

You nodded a little. "He was only trying to shoot me because I bumped into him by mistake…"

"Ah, so that was the issue." Seeing your confused look, he explained. "Sometimes, he can be quite.. sensitive about who's in his way, especially if his guard was down."

Can that be possible? That someone would shoot an unsuspecting person while distracted? You had never seen or met a man like that before until just now.

"And um.. do you happen to know him, exactly?" You then blurted out, not realizing for a moment that there could be someone hearing yours and his words this instant.

"Well, yes." England said in a low voice this time. "…Actually, I was about to tell you this sooner but… have you felt anything mysterious last night in Cherbourg? Or the similar kind of experience that you would've felt back in London?"

A tight feeling came to your throat as he asked you that question. How did he know of this? Did he saw you experiencing it or..

"Yes… why?" Was all you could say.

"The first-class passengers that boarded from there to _Titanic_.. those were actually some of the countries."

"Other… countries? Like you, America, and Canada?" You could not believe it; you had thought that America, Canada, and England were the only countries that do not only represent the land and history, but are also encountered as ordinary.. well, _mortals_, as some would call it.

"I'm afraid so." He sighed. "The one that you have bumped into was the country of Switzerland, although his 'human name' is Vash Zwingli."

Well, that would've explained of how he knew him. "So are there really other countries here on this ship?" You asked again just to make sure.

Not wanting to discuss this for too long, England just nodded in reply. "And I must inform you that you will be encountering the others later on in this voyage so please do be polite to them."

"Oh… very well, then." The two of you both went inside as well. You were trying to understand from what England told you, that might have explained why you always felt something odd about those first-class passengers; perhaps countries must have the mysterious surroundings around them as a slight difference from everyone else.

Somewhere in your mind, you thought that you might as well end up meeting the other countries day by day in this ship.

**[Edit: There's now a problem with uploading on the exact dates.. so the later chapters will be uploaded later than I thought.. I'M SORRY! PLEASE DON'T HATE ME~! TT^TT]**

**[Edit 2: Ok, **_**maybe**_** writing chapters that were not on the days **_**Titanic**_** was standing wasn't that bad as I thought… hopefully, I can finish the entire story before her 101th birthday at least. I also had to change at least 3 characters so yet again, forgive me.]**


	3. April 12, 1912

**Eugene: **Another thing to inform you will be that some of the countries will not be in _Titanic_. I mean, of course they'll be at that meeting later on but due to either geographical issues with travel, early arrivals to America's country, or even either one of the following: some due to historical unions or invasions, not formally introduced to a certain country, lack of character spots in main story plot, or even a few just not.. 'born' yet. See if you can figure out which countries are in the ship though. Another thing: Denmark, Norway, and Iceland doesn't have human names while I'm writing this so I had to settle for what names would be preferable in the 1900s. It's either that or that they're pretty common in most headcannons. ONWARD WITH CHAPTER 3!

**Friday. April. 12, 1912**

_**R.M.S Titanic**_**, **_**Somewhere at the Atlantic Ocean**_

As your eyes slowly opened like a newly-morphed butterfly taking flight, you expected to see daylight from the porthole but alas, it was really early in the morning. So early that in fact, the sun did not even rise up to the sky yet! It was dark, with night skies about to turn into a lighter shade of blue. To you, that was quite… new. New in an odd way. Your pocket watch nearby had said 4:30 AM.

"_That early_, _huh_?" You thought to yourself as you watched the hands of the clock move ever so slightly.

"_Well_, _since England is still sleeping_, _perhaps I should read a bit…_" Your eyes then turned to the small pile of books at the shiny square table. Yesterday after evening meal dinner, you had stopped by at the ship's huge library to borrow a couple books to read. You borrowed two, 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland' by Lewis Carroll and 'Oliver Twist' by Charles Dickens, while that favourite book of yours that you have carried in your carpetbag, which was 'Peter Pan' by J.M. Barrie, was right on top of the other two. You read the ones from the library first, only stopping to see the sunrise peeping out from the horizon after you were almost done reading 'Oliver Twist'. It was beautiful, the bright orange softened by a light violet, pale yellow, and a fiery red tone in every spot. The sun started to shine and light soon returned to the blue walls of your cabin.

"As soon as Wendy, John, and Michael thought of happy thoughts while the pixie dust coursed through their bodies, they suddenly felt themselves rising up in the air! They were actually flying! They've never felt so alive, so free, so-" While you were reading your favourite part from 'Peter Pan', the one when Peter was about take Wendy, John, and Michael to Never Land by flight, out loud, you suddenly heard the loud sounds of footsteps and had stop until they were gone. Had someone heard you reading? Was it England? A cabin steward? Another first-class passenger?

Fortunately, the footsteps stopped after a few minutes, which made you exhale a breath in relief. But then, all of a sudden, you heard a distant yet loud sound. But it did not come from the bedside heater. It did not come from the ceiling fan, either. You hope that it would stop but then the sound was interrupted by a stomach-curdling _flush…_

It came from the bathroom, you realized. It was quite odd, for no one else had used the bathroom near your room but you and you only. Then you heard the sound of running water coming out from the taps of one of the two sinks in the washstand. You found yourself scared now, wishing that whatever or whoever was in there would just go away. But by the time the intruder was still there, you felt the strange presence of a country…. what if it was one of them? Should you run away?

"_No_! _I must be brave_! _If America_'_s the hero_, _then so will I_!" You thought. Slowly, you tiptoed to the bathroom door, approaching closer and closer… you slowly turned the doorknob and the culprit revealed to be..

"AHA! SURRENDER YOURSELF OR- A-AH!…." Your face turned quite red as you saw a man in front of you. Somehow, your prediction was sort of right; there's a country right there in the bathroom, but it was _not_ England or Switzerland…

"I-I'm sorry! But you had just invaded the bathroom and- BLOODY HELL!" The bathroom floor started to flood with a hint of tap water and you stepped on the lacy embroidered skirt of your nightgown, causing you to slip. You ended up landing on top of the intruder. Opening one eye, you saw that the country has unruly blond hair, bright blue eyes, and he was shirtless. Blinking in disbelief, you saw that he had a smirk on his face.

"Well, well. You said that you were gonna leave, but now that you're on top of me, I guess that you'll just have to-" You felt his tongue lick the shell of your ear and he was about to do something to you when…

"LEAVE. HER. ALONE. NOW." A voice pierced the room. You looked up to see two young men (although to be technical, one of them seemed to be about your age), one with pale blond hair with a floating hair curl plus a dot and dull, hazy-looking dark blue eyes and another with almost-white slivery hair with vibrant violet-blue eyes, watching the entire scene suspiciously. With the presence surrounding them, you thought that maybe they're also countries.

"But I-"

"He has a point." The younger one cut him off while the older male nodded. With a sigh, the unruly-haired country gently pushed you off and was about to walk away when you heard a familiar voice.

"Miss [_last name_], what was going on- MATHIAS!" England's face of worry and concern over you was suddenly replaced by sheer anger, jealousy, and rage towards the (read: the one with the unruly blond hair) country's direction.

England seemed to grab the man by his muscular arm and dragged him into a cabin next to you on port, assuming that it might be the one the three other countries were staying in here in Titanic. Hearing a conversation between England and the other country, you tried hard to listen to what they were saying, even though most people had told you that you must never interfere with anyone's business (but their voices were loud that it was hard to ignore).

"…YOU'RE KIDDING ME!"

"No, Denmark, I am that serious; Miss [_full name _(_first name and last name_)] has been traveling on Titanic with me this whole time."

"But does she know-"

A sigh came from England's lips. "Yes, it turned out that she does. In fact, do you remember that time when I had quite a fever a few years ago during an important meeting And other illnesses beyond that?"

"….Sorta. But what does that have to do with it?"

"I had to send a human couple to take my place at time; it turned out that she is their _daughter_ and America had been friends with her since she was a small child."

"So~ does she knew about us as countries then?"

"For the most part, yes…"

The conversation had just stopped and the door swung open. You pretended that you were just casually waiting for him as England glanced you over.

"Miss [_last name_], forgive me for making you wait for so long." Then he said in a low voice, "But you should _never_ invade another gentleman's privacy. _Especially_ in a lavatory." His eyes had a bit of a stern look as his green eyes flashed at yours.

"But I-…" There was no use of protesting now; I mean, it was an accident. "I'm sorry." You meekly squeaked out, unsure of how to explain the incident to England. "But why was that man using the bathroom in my cabin?"

There was a minute of silence before he finally said, "Mathias Køhler, really the country of Denmark, was told by a cabin steward that you two must share that room together. That is all I can explain."

Well, _that_ explained why _he_ came there as an intruder. Even though it was embarrassing, you just wished that someone had told you that sooner, otherwise, you would've avoided it easily.

After morning meal (in the Café Parisien this time), a few first-class Americans had invited England to play cards in the lounge. You watched them play a hand or two but as they started to play bridge, you felt kind of bored and you found the game quite dreary.

He must've noticed your near-sleeping state, for you had found his eyes staring into yours again. You managed to straighten up, hoping that there would not be any more embarrassment once again.

"If you were thinking of exploring around the ship for a bit…" You tensed at his statement, your blood about to freeze; that was what you wanted to do all along, but as a first-class passenger, were you not allowed to do such a thing? "-I shall let you do so but _please_ be certain that you must come back as soon as you can." He finished and for a moment, you had probably saw a small reassuring smile on his face.

Confused at first, you then now realized that England, of all the British gentlemen in the country, had actually let you _explore_ around _Titanic. _Quietly thanking him with a small curtsey, you went off to wander for wherever your curiosity may reach.

So far, you had explored around the postal office, the first-class maids' and valets' dining saloon, electric baths, and the squash court. You were even brave enough to peek inside one of the boiler rooms! The first-class smoking room, however, seemed to be a place that young ladies like you may not endure, for once you stuck your head into the doorway, there was so much smoke and heavy smells from the whisky that you had actually turned _green_ after only a few seconds! You ended up coughing up from the smoke after that.

You had also visited the gymnasium, curious about the equipment there. Luckily, Mr. McCawley, the very fit man who oversees the room, demonstrated to you the various machines. You had found the mechanical horse and camel a little erratic… and hard to handle, but it was not so bad after the first ride. The stationary bicycle was quite nice; you get to ride a bike without going anywhere and you get to keep track of how far did you pedal with the small clock and pointers on the wall. Somehow, it reminded of you of your own bicycle, which must've been in your parents' custody right now. You also tried to rowing machine, but it was quite tricky to push and pull yourself back and forth without being so tired.

After a couple more stubborn rounds with the rowing machine, you went to try out the indoor swimming pool. After finding a light blue bathing suit from your luggage back at your cabin and paying for a ticket, you waded around in the cool water, letting your mind swirl itself away with the clear water.

As your head bobbed a bit from the water's surface and your still body, your mind started to wander off, replaying the last few days in your head. You had thought about how England had been treating you lately; from what you had gathered, he seemed kind and generous enough, for an ideal British gentleman. But he looked serious at times whenever you would do something that you did not do on purpose (now that you had mentioned it, when you accidentally fell on top of that 'Denmark', it would've looked like… whatever it was, to him) and he seemed to be.. protective of you. If that was even possible, you mean.

You, on the other hand, felt a tad bit nervous around him and you would even blush if he had done such things like holding your hand or even _standing_ next to him…. What could all of this mean? Did you really feel that you were-

"HEY! YA DONE DREAMIN' YET-"

Startled by the voice, you had ended up under the water, only to rise up to the surface and squirt out some of it from your puffed-up lips. You did not see who the voice belonged to, though, for you were out of the pool already to dry up with a fluffy white towel.

Wrapping another towel around your now-wet body, you headed for the Turkish bath to cleanse up. It was a very unusual experience, to stand around in rooms with increased heat and sweating freely until you splash yourself in cold water and soaped down before heading to a room with a cooling effect. But then again, you realized, that having a Turkish bath must be something that first-class passengers like England would've preferred over regular baths (though that may be a bit unlikely).

"At least I am alone- OOF!" All of a sudden, you bumped into something. Or more likely, _someone_. Oh wait… make that _3 _someones. Nervous, you expected bullets about to be shooting in your direction, just like what happened between you and 'Switzerland'. There were none, though, which was a relief. But unfortunately (sort of), you saw _him_ again.

"_Oh my god_, _no_! _Not him again_!" You almost groaned out as you saw the familiar blue and violet eyes along with the peeks of light blond and silver towering over you a little. To be technical though, you were actually mentioned the unruly-haired blonde, _Denmark_. Him of all people!

"…..You are not going to do… things to me, aren't you?" You said to the tall country with a shaky voice but staring at him with narrowed eyes.

"Yes- WHAT?" He seemed startled at what he almost said. "No! That's so not what I meant! I only-" The shorter blonde and the silver-haired male started to send piercing glares at him before he got defeated with, "Look, I'm sorry about the thing in the bathroom. I was surprised that you didn't even know that you're sharing it with us, blah, blah, blah.." Then he held up a slightly calloused hand as if he expected that you should shake hands with him. "So do ya forgive me?"

"Um…." Now that he mentioned it, it would be rude if you do not apologize to him immediately. Besides, even though he had taken a liking to you (at least that was what you thought), he did not seemed to be that bad…. he actually sort of reminded you of America in a way. Keeping this piece of information in mind, you managed to relax a bit and decided to shake his hand. "Of course. It was a minor mishap after all."

"Sweet! I'm Mathias Køhler, but you can call me Denmark, the King of the North!" The unruly-haired blonde, Denmark, made a hero stance and gave a wide grin. "Oh, and these two are Lukas Bondevik and Emil Steilsson, but just call 'em Norway and Iceland!" He pointed at the smaller of the two.

"….Hey." The smaller blonde, Norway, greeted with a quiet voice.

"…Good day to you, miss." The silver-haired one, Iceland, bowed to you shyly but regally. He seemed to be blushing somehow.

You gave them a small smile before turning to Denmark. "What are you three doing there anyway?"

"Just tryin' out this Turkish bath-thingy. And apparently, someone here just squirted pool water right at my face…"

At the mention of the squirting of the pool water, you blushed in embarrassment; so _Denmark _was the one who startled you back there. "Forgive me; that was yet again, another mishap."

A wave of silence had washed over the room, due to the fact that there was no one in the cooling room of the Turkish bath but you, Denmark, Norway, and Iceland, all wrapped up in towels.

"….You looked like you're spacing out there. Watcha thinking about?" Denmark then broke the silence.

"Hm?" You looked up to see the three countries staring at you innocently. "..About…. England, I think?"

"What about him?" Iceland then piped up.

"..I absolutely do not know." You were just about to leave the cooling room to change back into your mint green and dark blue paisley dress when Denmark suddenly grabbed your arm in order for you to stop.

"Oh yeah, wanna go slumming down the third-class place down there after evening meal? I heard that there's a party goin' on." He asked you with a hopeful look in his blue eyes.

"That sounded- wait, what is 'slumming', may I ask?" You then realized, not remember what 'slumming' could be.

"YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT SLUMMING IS?" Denmark almost looked shocked at your words, which frightened you a little.

"Mathias, just because she is in first-class does not mean that she knows about slumming." Norway informed the Dane. The latter was true, but sadly the first part wasn't (and that made you a little guilty…).

"He has a point." Iceland agreed.

"…Fine. Most of the first-class people explore around wherever the second-class or steerage are without being caught." Denmark explained to you, trying to make it simple as possible. "It's actually called 'East End-ing' but people's been calling it 'slumming'."

"So… if you are one of the first-class people, you can venture out to second or third-class property without being caught?" You tried to sum it up yourself.

"Exactly! As long as you're not caught, of course." Denmark winked.

Somewhere in your mind, maybe you _do_ feel a little out of place among the first-class passengers. While you were exploring earlier, you had wondered about what the second and third-class were like over there. Were they treated equally as the first-class? Or a lot more? Less? And since Denmark mentioned a party, perhaps that it would get you into your spirits…

"Then I shall accept your invitation, kind sir." Giving off a wider smile of your own. However, something else was on your mind and your expression fell as doubts came by. "Oh… but what will England think? I am unsure if he will even allow it.."

"Aw c'mon! He's being too stiff! He should loosen up more often!" Denmark exclaimed. Norway gave him a shove as a result, his dull-looking blue eyes glaring.

"You think so?"

"Hell yeah! If anything, just sneak the idea right to him!"

Denmark does have a point; England was still a proper gentleman, but then again, he _does_ need to relax and let himself loose a little…

"Excellent idea, Denmark. Quite splendid." You agreed.

While changing back into your dress, Norway knocked into the door of the changing room and said, "Hurry up; the bugles had just announced for evening meal. You do not want to keep England waiting."

"_Evening meal_? _I must_'_ve explored around the ship for that long…._ Alright, I'll be there." You thought to yourself wildly before reminding the Norwegian that you will be done soon.

Later during evening meal, you and England were sharing the same table with Denmark, Norway, and Iceland, as well as with two other blondes, both male. It turned out that the shorter of the two's Tino Väinämöinen while the tall one's Berwald Oxenstierna (England had mentioned that they're really Finland and Sweden).

"-and that's the reason why I think Vikings are more vicious than pirates." Denmark concluded in his statement for the conversation. So far, Iceland looked bored, Norway and Sweden seemed to be giving him piercing stares, Finland was too busy eating, and you were trying to concentrate on the taste of the gourmet food in your plate and the entire debate of Vikings versus pirates at the same time, and England… well, you were not sure, really.

"Bloody hell, Mathias, that is absolutely not a reasonable explanation." England disagreed to the Dane, who started to pout.

"Yeah, yeah, that's what you said, but then again, what they don't have is luck. Pure, sheer luck." Denmark pointed out, stuffing a piece of roasted meat into his mouth.

"….Somehow, you have a point." You then said, remembering a piece of advice that your parents had told you when you were younger. "Life is like a lucky hand; if you choose your card right, it may lead you to the unexpected events. I choose a good one and here I am, socializing with the first-class and feeling like royalty."

Realizing that you actually had a point somehow, most of the Nordic countries, as well as a few of the other passengers, chuckled at your words. Even England seemed to find it amusing.

Shyly raising your glass of lemonade, you said, "Here's to making life count." before the other countries raised their own glasses and made a toast, murmuring, "To make life count."

After taking a sip of the lemony liquid and finishing the rest of your meal, you stood up from your seat and began to leave the restaurant (people seemed to call it "The Ritz", named after a famous hotel) yourself. Before you did so though, you did a reassuring squeeze on England's hand, whispering, "I'll be right back; time for my coach to turn into a pumpkin.".

England curiously watched you at the door, disappearing at sight. He was wondering what could you be doing right at this hour when he heard five more chairs moving; it seemed that the Nordics had also finished eating and they might be heading for their cabins. Sighing, he was about to remove the white gloves from his hands and put them in his pockets when he felt a piece of paper in one of his clenched hands. It was a small note, consisting only the following:

**Make it count, never stop. Meet me at the Grand Staircase, next to the clock.**

**~[**_**first name**_**]**

A few minutes later, England had found himself at the Grand Staircase, finding you looking at the time. You looked quite different though, for you were wearing the lilac dress and your button-boots instead.

As you saw him, you smiled and said, "Hey Arthur, want to see a _real_ party?".

Down at the Third-Class General Room, many people were dancing up a storm. Although the second and third-class ended up with less desirable places, they looked quite nice nonetheless (something that you should notify to your parents in case of traveling on that same ship).

Anyways, as the party went on, any different instruments were played in a jolly way in which even a really bored or grumpy person would cheer up. The party was splendid! Absolutely, totally splendid! By now, you and England were there along with Denmark, Norway, Iceland (Denmark made them), and another country, Prussia (his human name's Gilbert Beilschmidt; Denmark introduced you to him after you found the place).

At that point, Norway was watching the dancers coolly, Denmark and Prussia were having a drinking contest with a few men from other countries, you and Iceland were off dancing (with different people, of course), while England was gazing at the scene with some sort of concern and uncertainty. His jacket was hung on the chair he was sitting on and the sleeves of his shirt was rolled up.

"Miss [_last name_], are you so sure about doing this?" England had to shout out from the loud noise. "If we are… 'slumming', won't we be caught?"

"Of course not! Denmark- I mean, _Mathias_ said that as long as no one else notices, we'll be fine!" You just said as you began to twirl around, held by a teenage boy's arms.

"Yeah! AND FIRST-CLASS PARTIES CAN GO TO HELL! WOO-HOO!" Denmark shouted after finishing what seemed to be the sixth beer of the night.

After dancing with more of the third-class passengers, you danced with Iceland a bit, hoping to give him more confidence after seeing him trying hard not to be so embarrassed in front of a couple girls earlier. But then all of a sudden, one of the men, an Irish emigrant, yelled out, "DANCE WITH HIM, LASSIE!", as he grabbed England by the arm and replaced Iceland's place. The two of you found yourself in each other's eyes in confusion.

"Uhh…" Blushing hard, England looked as if he could not move.

"Come on, please dance with me." You just smiled and led England to the center of the room where everyone, including Denmark, Norway, Iceland, and Prussia, was watching.

"See if you can beat this." With a quick start, your feet began to tap on the slightly loose wooden boards, as if you were tap-dancing. Following the music from the fiddles, bagpipes, and other foreign instruments, you seemed to put your dance partner into a frenzy in his eyes. You loved to dance; whenever a musician would play something lively like the American ragtime in any sort of instrument, you and America would kick up heals whenever possible. If anything, it made you feel free.

"Oh yeah?" England started to smirk back, which surprised you. "Watch me." Taking off his dress shoes and his socks, leaving only his feet bare, he began to dance himself, but with more grace and twisting moves here and there.

"That's quite impressive, but I bet that whoever can outdance the other in this room wins." You countered, taking off your boots and stockings. As a result, others whispered to each other about whether if you or England will make it.

At first, you had thought that he would absolutely refuse, being a proper gentleman. But England only kept his emerald-green eyes focused on yours and started to dance again, the music playing itself faster, louder, and more stirring. The two of you danced in a way even the flames of fire could not beat. It used to be synchronized at first, but then the dance moves soon grew more feisty, impatient, and heated, putting everyone at the edge. Then the sound of the fiddles gave out a tune that seemed to draw itself out like a wool thread spun out from the spinning wheel. You were uncertain of the lyrics, but you did hear the following:

"_Come Josephine in my flying machine_

_And it's up she goes_!_ Up she goes_!

_In the air she goes. Where_?_ There she goes_!_"_

That very words forced you and England to join hands together, spinning each other around.

Everything was moving so fast, making everything but you and the Brit's face (which was purely in focus) blurry. It would've made the two of you dizzy if it were to make you both not laughing and smiling. But you did not seem to care and neither had England. Finally, the music started to slow down. Trying hard to stop spinning around, the end result only happened in the form of England holding you by the waist, dipping you to the wooden floor, as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"You seemed to be a better dancer than I thought, Miss [_last name_]." He whispered seductively in your ear, drops of sweat dripping from the shell of his ear to yours. His voice also sounded as if he himself was defeated by your moves.

"Well, thank you." Then your smile turned a tad bit mischievous as you added in, "And by the way, I would be very pleased if would just call me [_first name_]." before you and England finished the dance with a two-step and a bow.

**Eugene: **Fyi, the piece read from the book 'Peter Pan' was something I came up with... and I love writing my version of the party scene. :3 Anyway, is this chapter awesome enough for you? Last thing: if you want to read another reader-insert story about _Titanic_, please read "Ice Romance, Iceberg Tragedy" by Obsessive-Fan Number 1; it's ReaderXIceland and even though it's shorter than this, she's a good writer and therefore, you'll still like it.


	4. April 13, 1912

**Eugene: **Ok, so as you know, you'll notice that there's a lot of references from James Cameron's movie. Try to find them while reading OR if you can't find them, they will be listed in my historical notes. ONWARD WITH CHAPPIE 4 (By the way, a few more countries are mentioned… sorry that I can't introduce all of them to the reader [meaning YOU]. Also, I wasn't sure about Germany's last name so I just used the same one as Prussia's…)! AND COME FORTH THE DRAMA!

**Saturday. April. 13, 1912**

_**R.M.S Titanic**_**, **_**Somewhere at the Atlantic Ocean**_

Everywhere you look around in _Titanic_, there were many things that often makes you a lot more observant than you usually were. Some that you were told of, others were the ones that you have heard from the other first-class passengers between meals, or you had just _saw_ it right in front of your eyes.

For one, England had explained to you after the party from down at steerage that most of the countries here at this ship were from Europe (most of them, to be precise). After the incident with Switzerland and the intrusion with Denmark in the bathroom, he had to inform the countries about you so that similar problems like these will be prevented if you had met one of them in person (which may explain why they told you of their original names as well as their human names). From what you gathered, you had managed to remember the following so far:

Switzerland=Vash Zwingli

Austria=Roderich Edelstein

Hungary=Elizabeta Héderváry

Denmark=Mathias Køhler

Norway=Lukas Bondevik

Iceland=Emil Steilsson

Finland=Tino Väinämöinen

Sweden=Berwald Oxenstierna

Prussia=Gilbert Beilschmidt

Germany=Ludwig Beilschmidt

Lithuania=Toris Laurinaitis

Estonia=Eduard von Bock

Latvia=Raivis Galante

Poland=Feliks Łukasiewicz

Russia=Ivan Braginski

Another thing that you had noticed was that most of the first-class passengers seemed to be from America (perhaps his citizens). The Brits back home often told you that they had dreadful accents, habit of using slang and idioms, tend to lack characteristics such as reserve and dignity, sounded quite differently depending on where they live, and they are lively but are almost childishly gullible. In fact, some were even boring! But it was hard to tell to notice any of those traits, especially while you were childhood friends with America in your entire life (he doesn't use them half the time). You may have not seen or heard all of those things, but some were noticeable enough.

And the last thing that was on your mind that day was that most of the first-class passengers gossiped about everyone and everything. Having really good hearing, you can hear even the quietest voice when they were chattering to each other like birds. Even if most parents would scold their children for not 'minding their own businesses' as they heard other people's words, one purpose that the gossip had served you was this: everywhere that you looked now, you could recognize many famous people on deck from what you had heard from their words (even if most of very famous were only famous because they were simply rich).

Morning meal seemed quiet at the moment. You and England were sitting with Estonia, Latvia, Poland, and Russia at that time and even though the six of you were halfway done through your breakfast, Lithuania seemed to be late. While Russia casually talked about international affairs with England, he would smile in an odd way at Latvia and Estonia (who looked quite shaky near him) while Poland glared. At one point, he even muttered something like "[_first name_] must become one with me, _da_~? Kolkolkol…" at your direction, which made you sweatdrop.

"Sorry that I am late; I was tired…" A timid voice broke the silence; Lithuania entered the room, walking over to his seat a little slower than normal. He also had dark circles under his eyes.

"Toris!" Poland exclaimed at his best friend. "Like, what happened to you?"

"I couldn't sleep; one of the books that I had borrowed last night gave me nightmares…" Lithuania tried to explain as he rubbed one eye.

"…Wasn't it 'Futility' by Morgan Robertson?" The Pole asked suspiciously.

"Uh, yes….? Why?"

"You should've not read that, _da_? It will give you nightmares night after night. Especially if you read the part when _Titan_ hits an iceberg during her maiden voyage and there were little lifeboats as many passengers die…" Russia then gave off a rising purple aura that seemed to put the entire café (by café, it was the Café Parisien) at the edge, smiling a creepy smile. At the sight of this, Lithuania looked scared. Latvia's eyes seemed to grow watery while Poland gritted his teeth and England shivered. You, however, just tilted your head in curiousity.

"Mr. Braginski, you should not scare someone as innocent as him. Who know what he had been through." Estonia defended, posing in what seemed to be a thinking position and for some apparent reason, there were sparkles surrounding him as if he was a glass chandelier or a diamond.

Russia did not give out a reaction but just in case, he decided to stay quiet.

Sometime by noon, you had noticed an odd disturbance around the first-class women (yes, that included young girls!). A _very_ odd disturbance. Instead of their usual gossip, they were talking in hushed voices, saying something about 'Mr. Kirkland.', 'That girl needs to go right now.' and stuff like that. They also seemed to flutter their eyelashes at England while they simply glared at you. You found it extremely uncomfortable yet you did not inform this to England.

"[_first name_]? Are you alright? You seemed to be tense." England asked you in a concern voice.

"I'm fine! I just need to go to the bathroom…" You dashed off back to your cabin and headed for the bathroom. Luckily for you, Denmark, Norway, or Iceland were not there at the moment so you had to small room to yourself for a bit. After a few minutes, not only did you got yourself cleared of excess waste, but the familiar humming sounds of the engines and the soft quietness of the bathroom made you calm down from the jealous presence of the women. When you came back down the Grand Staircase to meet up with England again…. something was not right.

"BLOODY HELL, YOU ARE ALL ACTING IN AN UNCIVILIZED MANNER, LADIES!"

"We do not care…"

A moment of silence came. "W-What did you just say?"

"Be quiet and let us do the work….." The strange voices, even if they are from women somewhere, it sounded oddly seductive… you had found yourself staring at the most disturbing scene; most of the first-class women, from little girls to middle-aged women, surrounded England and while one tried hard to make him flustered (you were not sure if it was from arousal or embarrassment though), another, possibly Georgette, seemed to be touching him in sensitive places, making him twitch. You also saw Miss Allen cooing out words like 'cute' and 'handsome'. Then, out of nowhere, a girl about your age crawled on top of him _and she kissed him right on the lips._

As you saw this very moment yourself, you felt the colour of your face drenched away as you turned ghostly pale and tried hard not to shed any tears or unleash a scream. Feelings of shock, angst, sadness, madness, anger, rage, and guilt started to rush into your head. Realizing that you could not last longer in this foolery, you could do nothing but to let a few tears run to your cheeks and you ran away immediately.

"[_first name_]! Wait-" England tried to stop you, but unfortunately, the invasion of women seemed to cut him off. You did not hear him.

You ended up at the end of the Promenade, where all of the first, second, and third-class passengers mingle together down at the poop deck near the stern. Huddling your body close while sitting down on a lounge chair, trying your very best to calm down.

Sure, you were not the type to cry very often, but you would try to hold the tears off as long as possible in case there was an adult who would think that crying is 'childish'. You had managed to calm down in a matter of minutes, but you could still feel the painful feeling in your throat and your stomach from seeing what those ladies did to England. Now that you had mention it, maybe the women in first-class were not _acting_ like well-mannered women at all; they might as well be addicted perverts.

Somewhere in your mind, you wondered why did that very moment happened in front of your eyes. To you, it may be the result of what England really thought about you. Was it because you were not suitable to him? Because that he's a country yet you're a 'mortal'? First-class against second-class and third-class? Countries clashing with citizens? Beauty and opulence versus simplicity and the so-called ugliness? The strong opposing the weak? Or did he just thought of you as utter disappointment?

Disappointment… you tried very hard to behave, act, and speak like a first-class lady should be (you learned from the others in the ship) around the other passengers, but somehow, perhaps that you did not sound like one in person. Or even _act_ like one, which would explain England's uncertainty about dancing in the third-class general room and the slumming.

Another thing that you noticed about the first-class was that they seemed to frown down at the second and third class passengers as if they were animals from the zoological gardens in Regent's Park. The first-class can go anywhere in the ship if they wish, but the second and third-class were restricted to certain parts of the ship (which was unfair, really). They also have the luxurious stuff here while others had similar yet plainer interior in their surroundings. Being from second-class and mingling around third-class yourself, you knew about those experiences and you sympathize on them, knowing that if you were in your original class and _not_ in first-class, you would be treated the same way. It may be similar with how some people discriminate others of not only by class of society, but also of their surface and where they're from.

But other than that, your questions were unsolved, leaving you to wonder what should you do now….

"Ve~ _ciao bella signorina_! You are- huh? Why are you sad~?"

Surprised at the voice disrupting your thought, you looked up to see a young man (from first-class) somewhere around England's physical age. From the language he spoke, he must be from Italy. His hair was a reddish auburn with an aborable-looking curl on his left and his eyes were a warm sort of brown (kind of like polished wood). You could sense the mysterious essence surrounding him, meaning that he must be another country, one that England did not told you about yet.

"Me? Sad? You had the wrong idea…" Was all you could mumble out.

"Ve~ then what happened?" The Italian reached out to squeeze your arm in comfort.

You remembered that your parents would always tell you that talking about what happened to you helps, although you were not sure if it really worked. Nevertheless, you tried your best to sum up what happened earlier at morning meal, the dismissal in the bathroom, and the women flocking around England to the curious Italian.

"That's terrible!" He exclaimed. "First-class women did not seem to notice that Arthur is with someone else that he likes, ve~"

A stinging feeling pierced your throat when he mentioned 'someone else that he likes'. "He likes.. someone? But who?" Now that he had mentioned it, England did not told you about any of the women, 'mortal' or country, in which he fancied.

"You didn't know?" You just shook your head as he tried to say his point. "Arthur likes you, ve~! He just won't admit it!"

Now that seemed to put you in complete shock. England, of all of the countries in _Titanic_, actually _liked_ you? You could not believe it. But you were unsure if it was the friendship kind of like or the one involving love, as in courting, kissing, marriage…

"But why would he-" You got cut off by the Italian.

"Ve~ I didn't ask him; I can just tell from the expression of his face!" He just smiled, giving off a laugh similar to wind chimes.

Would it be possible though? England having a liking of you? You took that possibility into your thoughts, in case if it was ever true.

"….I shall have to figure it out for myself. After all, I need to see if he is being true about this.." You decided officially, which seemed to make him do a clapping motion.

"Ve~ that's the spirit! By the way, I'm Feliciano Vargas! But just call me Italy. I personify the North of the country!" He said in a quieter voice as he shook your hand.

At some point, you heard the bugler calling out to announce luncheon with his bugle. You had almost forgot that time passed this quickly.

"Ve~ aren't you coming for lunch?" He was about to leave when he saw your still state.

"Huh? Oh, no, you go on ahead without me…" You just said. Waving his arms around as he skipped, you could hear Italy chiming out 'PASTA~!' in a distance.

Even after watching Italy leave, you still cannot believe his words. It seemed highly unlikely… was it?

You had _a lot _to think about.

Meanwhile, after the commotion with the ladies, England paced around in the Grand Staircase, completely missing luncheon as well, even though Austria and Hungary insisted that he should join them in the dining saloon. However, that did not turn out well, for while they were casually talking with other passengers in their table, Prussia had groped around in Hungary's bottom and while she tried to lash at him with a frying pan and he tried to find Austria, saying that he wanted to 'invade his vital regions'.

"_That vulgar bastard_." The Brit muttered mentally in his mind while everyone sweatdropped at the very sight.

England himself left the room. It was awkward enough, but nothing was quite as embarrassing and humiliating in his life (other than France attempting to molest him at every opportunity) than what happened after morning meal.

He absolutely cannot believe that most of the first-class women, of all the passengers in the ship, would act in such a way that he cannot.. understand. They had tried flirting, kissing, hugging, and everything in between but as a proper British gentleman, he preferred to keep everything to himself and ignore such attempts of romance.

Or at the very least, until he met _you_.

He cannot believe it when you saw the entire scene in your eyes, how the tears were trying to hold itself back, the negative feelings washing over when one of the ladies about your age tried to kiss him directly on the lips… somehow, it just felt too much for him to handle to see you this upset and jealous. Part of him wanted to hold you close, comfort you to reassurance. But then again, you would be upset and lash out at him or something similar to that.

Even if you were in a different class, the fact that you were one of his citizens, and that you acted a tad bit differently than he would expect in a young lady, somehow, you were the one who made him quite… well, less lonely, perhaps even free himself. And speaking of free, _that_ may explain about your dancing earlier last night and the fact that he heard you reading 'Peter Pan' out loud from across his own cabin, especially at the part about the flying.

Also, he cannot really admit this, but meeting and spending time with a non-country like you was quite… in one word, _interesting_. And it was also nice…

England wished that he would just tell you how he felt. But you seemed oblivious about this and did not even notice the English Roses that _he_ sent, with the help of his and Norway's fairies, of course.

Which reminded him of something; where could you be…?

"-Mr. Andrews, are you _sure_ there are enough lifeboats for everyone here in this ship? There seems to be not a lot for everybody…" While wandering around every deck in the ship, you encountered Mr. Andrews, who was making sure that _Titanic_ would be secure enough to get to New York. After realizing that a few of his important papers were about to fly away from the wind, you went off to catch them and you returned them to him. At the moment, you had asked a few questions as the two of you walked together for a bit. Right now, this would be one of those questions.

"Of course they are enough, miss! _Titanic_ is the unsinkable ship! Nothing bad would happen here!" Mr. Andrews exclaimed.

"Oh…" For some apparent reason, you were not quite sure about the 'unsinkable' part. But to get that subject out of your head, you changed subjects. "How many lifeboats does _T__itanic_ have then?" You asked.

"Sixteen. There are also four collapsible in case of emergencies. Each would carry about forty-seven people." He replied honestly. "_Titanic_ should've carried about sixty-four, due to the sixteen sets of davits, but due to the Board of Trade's regulations for British vessels over ten thousand tons to carry sixteen lifeboats with a capacity of nine hundred and ninety occupants and the fact of looking 'cluttered', I ended up overruled." Mr. Andrew's face gave off a disapproving look as he mentioned the word 'overruled'. Then he turned to you. "Well then, Miss [_last name_], I must be off now." He said before he left for further investigation.

After walking around a tad bit longer, you headed to the Marconi room, where you decided to send that telegram to America. To make it short yet sweet, this was what it said:

**Dear Alfred and Matthew,**

**I might arrive sooner, I'm not sure yet. But anyways, I can't wait to see you too.**

**~[**_**first name**_**]**

The operators were strikingly civil, but they seemed overwhelmed today (which was the reason of the 'short yet sweet' part of the telegram) with the never-ending requests. Afterwards, you read the recent article of 'Atlantic Daily Bulletin', Titanic's small newspaper at the first-class reading and writing room. Even if it was more chatty than information, you do not mind. You had learned that Titanic's expected to arrive in New York on Wednesday morning (Wednesday. April. 17, 1912).

After exploring around a little more (your legs never seem to be tired here anymore), you ended up at the bow of the ship (it was empty that time, as it was secluded and there were no people), watching the sky shifting into its warm, vibrant colours as the sun started to set. By then, your mind wandered around again. You were still thinking about what Italy had told you. You still cannot believe it; England _liked_ you yet he would not admit it? H could that be possible…?

Engrossed in your thoughts, you almost did not hear the voice behind you. "-[_first name_]? [_first name_]?"

Finally hearing the voice calling out for your name, you almost fell down, startled, realizing the voice was from _England_. You thought that you were going to end up on the floor but he caught you, breaking your fall and into his arms. Somewhere in your mind, you sensed that you were starting to blush… scrambling to your feet, you stood up went back to the spot where you were standing, still facing the changing sky.

"W-What are you doing here? I t-t-thought that you would b-be with the women, d-d-doing.. something." You stuttered, losing your words. You had felt those strange feelings again, but unsure of what were they.

"…..You saw what happened, didn't you?" Was all he said. You just nodded nervously, hoping that he would not be angry. Whenever you're angry, you would scream and yell out everything under the sun directly at the target. Really loudly. In full cockney.

"[_first name_]." England sighed, trying to put his explanation into simple yet honest words. "Forgive me, they must've fancied me for so long, it was hard to get away from them afterwards.. but they already had their husbands or other suitors, I'm sure, so do not think that I would fall for the ladies' flirtations.."

At first, you meant to say that you do not believe him, but then you remembered the whispering of a devious plot that would only lead to… that. Could he be lying or was he telling the truth? But now that you thought of it, it _did _looked like he was not amused at the incident the similar way he would've felt when France.. did the similar thing.

"So… they desired you, not the only way around?" You tried to sum it up without sounding too awkward.

"..Yes." Alright, now _that _sounded like the truth.

You let out a huge sigh of relief, finally glad that he did_ not _want to do anything involving the other women. Or in your words, he does not like any of them. "I understand."

England smiled at this, glad that he did not have to suffer for a while. He stepped forward, his chest pressed against your back.

"England? What are you-?" You began but got cut off.

"Shh… Stay where you are…." England whispered in your ear. Curious about this, you did what you were told. He pulled you closer, as if he was going to kiss you from behind, which made you blush for a brief moment.

"Close your eyes." He requested to you again. Not looking at the sky but facing downward, you reluctantly closed your eyes before tilting your chin up. You felt England's arm wrapping around your waist as he gently moved you to the platform of the bow.

"Alright, now hold on to the railing… and no peeking." He stated. You were hesitating at first, worrying that you will fall down so you had to grab to the bow's cable to keep yourself balanced.

You heard him stepping onto the rail just above the one you were standing and said, "Don't worry, I got you… do you trust me?".

Needing a few minutes of consideration, you made up your mind by saying, "Yes." before England grabbed your hands and raised your arms up, spreading them as if they were wings of a bird. Once you had gained balanced by yourself, he let go for a bit, only to place his hands around your hips for security.

"You can open your eyes now, love." He whispered out the last request. Your eyes slowly fluttered open like fairy wings.

The next thing you know, you had found yourself surrounded by the never-ending Atlantic Ocean, the expanding sunset with the colours flaring up and the sun just about to disappear, and the cool wind on your face. The water was a cerulean blue, with steaks of bright orange, pinkish-purple, and golden yellow. The entire scene stood out more in your current position, in its clearest quality. You gasped, realizing that if you could see the entire outskirts of the water while your position was like a bird, then it could mean only one thing…

"England! I'm flying! I'm flying!" You cried out joyfully, realizing that your wish of flying up into the air came true. You felt like you were going to fly, just like in 'Peter Pan'. The only difference though was that your feet were still glued to the railing, but at that point, you do not seem to care. You felt absolutely, 100% free. More free than anything…

As soon as you leaned a bit more forward and arched your back, more wind rushed to your face. It felt really nice. Your position stayed the same for a couple minutes until England removed the hands from your hips to yours as he entwined the fingers together, also spreading out his own arms. You twisted your head a bit to see his emerald green eyes staring into yours.

"Hey, I-" You were about to ask him a question, but you got cut off as his lips were on your own. You were unsure if you should react or even say anything, for it felt highly strange at first. The contact was not very deep, but it did not feel like a peck on the lips either. Whatever it was, it almost short-circuited your head.

Noticing your confused reaction, he parted for a moment to ask you, "You'd ever kissed a bloke like me before, have you, [_first name_]?".

Shyly, you shook your head. "No, but I'm afraid that my efforts were unsatisfactory..."

Chuckling, he said, "Then we shall have another go then, shall we?" before kissing you again.

Your eyes went wide and you blushed harder as he kissed you again, but after about a couple of seconds, you closed your eyes, starting to kiss him back, the passion building up. The kiss was unusual… but felt strangely unique in its own way. Even if you were completely unsure of the strange new feeling inside of you, one thing was clear:

_You were actually in love with him._


	5. April 14, 1912

**Eugene: **It's a little stressful, writing and editing everything. It's also not easy trying to fit in some of the countries and the people in there so yeah (the same goes for detail)… TT TT Also, even if some of the stuff based on the movies are out of place compared to the original, the way I arranged it was originally my idea SO PLEASE DEAL WITH IT. Anyway, I give thanks to those who put this story in favourites, story alerts, or wrote reviews in here. I would also like to thank Sorashota95 (that dude over there wrote a PrussiaXRussia Titanic-related story, which is actually really good, despite the rating) for helping me with this chapter. *^^* I just wish that there's more (good) reviews though.. ONWARD WITH CHAPPIE 5! Fyi, there's gonna be some smut and drama later on so be warned… (I'm trying hard to _not_ make it M-rated-looking and into more T-rated instead so don't yell at me if you think that I fail. -.-)

**Sunday. April. 14, 1912**

_**R.M.S Titanic**_**, **_**Somewhere at the Atlantic Ocean**_

There was a religious service in the dining saloon that day. That mass was a Divine Service, possibly because that passengers of every faith would be comfortable attending in the same room. Second and third-class passengers were also welcome, but for some reason, they took the less desirable seats or stood in the very back, close to the bulkhead. You were there but did not do any prayers or psalms since you do not follow a religion (the same goes for your parents; they were not religious either).

You sat down in silence as you watched England reading the White Star line's Book of Prayer and singing along to the hymns (most of the prayers and psalms were familiar while others had a specific nautical theme). Observing the scene around you, no one seemed to notice that you were the only one still sitting.

From the looks of it, it looked almost like a real service that you had peeked into from church a few times. The only thing different about the Divine Service compared to a regular religious service was that here at Titanic, it was not lead by a clergyman or a priest, but the captain himself. Captain Edward John Smith. Even though he had a formidable appearance, with his dense gray beard and solemn eyes, his voice was soft and almost melodic while singing the hymns (not to mention that he seemed to be unfailingly polite). From what you had heard earlier, people would want him to stop and talk to them everywhere he goes, since he's popular to the passengers and the crew (in fact, some of the wealthy passengers refused to sail across the Atlantic unless he's captain!).

While listening to the final hymn, it sounded so soothing that you almost felt sleepy in the process. But not wanting to be rude, you had managed to stay awake. Once the Divine Service was over, everyone all left at once. You and England had to wait for them to clear before the two of you could leave as well.

"-Why're all the ships being called 'she'? Is it because men think that half the women around here have big sterns and should be weighed in tonnage?"

Curious about the recent question during luncheon (you were eating at The Ritz), you tried to figure this out for yourself. England had to sit at a different table with Chief Purser McElroy, Dr. O'Loughlin (the ship's doctor), Colonel Astor IV (along with his [read: second] wife), Denmark, and Norway. Since the seats at their table were completely full, you ate your lunch at another table not too far from there. However, the one table that you were currently at consisted of Austria, Hungary, Switzerland (who, by the way, was still tense about the shooting), a few other American ladies, and Mrs. Brown, a millionaire and women's right activist from America (as in the land).

As the women chuckled at Mrs. Brown's statement, you casually tried to answer the question by answering with, "Perhaps that most ships has some sort of feminine air to them? It would be odd if even one ship has the presence of a gentleman..".

Pretty much everyone at the table stared at you in silence, finding your suggestion a little _too_ odd (as America would say at a moment like this, it would be either, 'Everyone's a critic.' or 'They just ain't having a sense of humour.'). Austria and Switzerland were trying hard not to think of it as disturbing but Hungary simply giggled. Mrs. Brown found your theory somewhat amusing as the corners of her mouth twitched before she laughed a booming laugh.

While walking around the Promenade, England was looking up at the sky for a bit so every few minutes, you would glance over at every spot to see what was going on. Couples were strolling around, dogs were running around playfully with their owners, children were playing with their toys, while others simply either watched other people or stare straight into the sea (it happened most of the time here on the ship). The most amusing thing that you had saw recently was that there were some passengers (couples, parents with children, lovers, children, etc..) as well as a few countries trying to do the exact same thing that England did to you yesterday (they must've seen the entire scene that time somehow… you did _not_ see it coming)! Even though they enjoyed the feeling of 'flying' themselves, the positions that they attempted to do at the bow were completely different, but nevertheless, they were close.

At one point afterwards, you saw Sweden and Finland walking their small white dog, Hanatamago, and Germany teaching some tricks to his three dogs, Blackie, Berlitz, and Aster. Colonel Astor had walked over with his own dog (people had said that even though he's the richest man on the ship, he never seems to look cheerful, unless he's walking his dog), admiring the nations' own companions.

"Moi, moi! Your dog's adorable!" You overheard Finland. "What's her name?"

"Kitty." He had said while petting the Airedale. Both Finland and Germany found it amusing and laughed. Even you smiled at this, which clearly pleased him. Besides, Colonel Astor may be an imposing figure but how could you dislike a man who called his dog 'Kitty'?

"[_first name_]?" England had asked, making you turn around to look at him, since you were sort of distracted. "Have you ever thought of.. what do you think you will grow up to be one day?"

"Me? I… I don't know; there are so many possibilities yet so little confirmation!" You exclaimed. You had to bite your bottom lip as you tried to come up with an answer.

"But I've always wanted to be either an artist or a writer.. or a sculptor… or perhaps a dancer!" England watched you curiously as you unexpectedly leapt towards the air, landing perfectly and whirling around like a ballerina. "Oh I know, I'll become a moving picture actress and be famous on Broadway!"

Adjusting your hat (the one with the flowers and ribbons) and untangling the folds of your pink frock, you pretended to be Peter Pan, doing a imagining a sword fight with Captain Hook as you lashed back and forth with an imaginary dagger (another favourite part from 'Peter Pan'). England found it quite amusing; people like you with childlike dreaming… were quite wonderful, he admitted. After all, you might as well have the power to anything your heart desired.

For a bit of fun, he joined in on the act as well, pretending to be Captain Hook himself. While having the pretend swordfight going on for about two minutes, you had him in 'defeat', celebrating by doing a theatrical pose at the end.

"Hey… is that the sound of a movie camera?" England grabbed your wrist as he pointed to a first-class passenger cranking up a wooden movie camera (the first time you had ever seen one up close). Peeking at the screen the man was focusing on, your face showed up on the black and white frame, the innocence and curiosity revealed at a corner. The man with the movie camera, who he introduced himself as Daniel Marvin, smiled and encouraged the two of you to continue acting.

"Oh my god… he actually wants to film us!" You turned to England, tugging his arm. "We should act for the camera, please~?" Your eyes turned adorable, innocent, and wide in which he found it somewhat irresistible..

"Alright.." England smiled, walking over to where Mr. Marvin started to adjust the lens, making them focus the two of you. "If it makes you happy, then we shall."

Leaping into an empty deck chair, you and England had pretended to swordfight with each other again, you as Peter Pan (well, a female one, anyway) and him as Captain Hook (since England used to be a pirate himself).. sort of, but slightly different. Even if the battle itself was imaginary, it felt epic and alive as the two of you fought each other with pretend swords.

You and England were laughing as the two of you chased each other around the deck playfully, swinging around and clashing the blades at each other in the chase. Eventually, as the climax unfolded, you pretended to be 'in defeat' while England was on top of you, making a smirk and was about to 'stab' his pretend sword at you. But then in a twist, you found yourself drowning into his emerald green eyes, causing you to tug at his messy blond hair, pulling him into a kiss. A few of the other first-class passengers must've saw it, for you heard quiet gasps and saw shocked expressions.

Lured into your 'trap', the next thing England knew was that you suddenly rose up, pretending to slug him into the ground before 'stabbing' the imaginary dagger at him. Realizing that he was now 'dead', your eyes were now at the lens as you did a heroic pose. England stood up quick enough for the end as he bowed while you curtsied at the camera. Some of the first-class noticed the filming and clapped at the performance. Mr. Marvin seemed to enjoy it as well by the time he was done. At that point, you saw a few other countries cheering and even saw Dorothy Gibson, a silent film actress, smiling at your direction.

"_Hej_ [_first name_]! Awesome job with the acting!" Denmark called out from the bathroom later that afternoon. "I can't believe England would be 'defeated' like that, haha."

"Thanks!" You shouted back, since you sitting in your bed, reading more of 'Peter Pan'. Then you realized that he was wearing, to your surprise, a proper black dinner jacket with a crimson tie (normally, he would wear something more… laid-back). "You looked more.. sophisticated than usual at the moment, is there some sort of a special occasion?" You cannot help but to ask curiously.

"What~! You didn't know? There's some kind of special dinner-thingy tonight since it will be one of the last days here at _Titanic_ before landing." He explained.

"So I have to wear… more formal clothing?"

"Exactly! Although that freakin' jacket's gonna annoy me a little…" You watched Denmark trying to adjust the buttons of his white shirt before tossing something right at your direction. Surprised, you caught it. "Oh, and by the way, Iceland want to give ya this just because you deserve it."

"Huh? But what could it be-" You outstretched your hands to find a small bag of toffee and licorice tied with a lilac satin ribbon (the shade was similar to the one from your lilac dress). Untying the ribbon and opening the bag, you popped a piece of toffee and a licorice into your mouth as you continued to read. You were unsure why would Iceland want to give it to you despite that you had not seen him earlier, but hey, whatever.

A few hours later, you heard the sound of the bugle echoing into the depths of your stateroom. Looking at your pocket watch, you realized that it must be evening meal by now. Remembering that Denmark did say that this dinner hour will be 'formal' and 'sophisticated', you had to dig into the contents of your carpetbag and trunk to find _anything_ that contained the label 'Formal'.

"No… not that blue one….. I can't wear a blouse and a skirt either.." You muttered to yourself as you continued your search. If you had the choice, you would've wore your lilac frock, but that does not look 'proper', as a first-class person would call it. The pink one that you were currently wearing would've worked, too.. but somehow, it might not work either. Almost feeling defeat, you began to put the clothes away. But then you saw a flash of a some sort of a darker purple….

You pulled the material out, only to find a floor-length gown of a really vibrant violet, the neckline and trim flaring up and down with a silvery-white elaborate lace, surrounding the collar. The fabric must've been silk, as it felt light and sleek to the touch. It reminded you of your lilac dress, but looked more fitted for special occasions.

Quickly putting it on, you looked at your reflection from the large antique mirror mounted above the dressing table. The odd thing though was that now you did not _look_ like you. In your eyes, you would see a shy-looking, nearly tattered second-class girl, but somehow, the reflection of the mirror now revealed a young lady of privilege blossoming with confidence. If you were really of first-class lineage, perhaps the other passengers would think that you looked a princess. But then again, if you wore the Crown Jewels, maybe you would more look like a monarch. Someone like Queen Victoria.

Slipping on your black shoes and lace gloves, you wondered if you should tie your hair or not. Since the past week, you wore your hair tied into a bun or into one or two braids. However, you preferred to wear it loose, as it felt more relaxing that way. You do not have rags or hot curling tongs so you cannot curl it either…

"_Wait a minute_, _no other first-class women ever wore their own hair loose so far on this voyage…_" Keeping this statement firm in your mind, you decided to leave it loose, as the now-loose hair framed your face nicely. Besides, it curled ringlets of corkscrew curls naturally even without rags or the tongs; that came from the results of tied hair. But then you saw the front strands hiding your face, which was a tad bit annoying.

"Perhaps I should tie them back… but with what?" Letting your eyes stray to a few plain hairpins in which you normally used while tying up your hair, you realized that they may be… not much to look at. Then you saw the lilac-coloured ribbon lying lazily with the now-empty bag that once consisted of the toffee and licorice… suddenly, you just had an idea.

You were now standing in the alleyway between many awaiting women in a double-file line, you peeked at the activity going on at the bottom of the Grand Staircase. Apparently, you saw many women walking downstairs delicately, only to find a gentleman waiting for her hand to lead the way… formally, of course.

From observation, you saw the men standing with one hand at the small of the back, while giving the women an elbow or arm to hold on while leading them. Besides, women were supposed to be escorted by a gentleman. You even saw some of the men brushing their lips at the women's hands when they kiss it (or in other words, they do not _really_ do it; the lips barely even touch the hand!). Now that you thought of it, would there be any men doing that to you? Or would they simply ignore you? It would've been easier to think this though if only the different scents the other women were wearing would not be so overpowering; they smelled odd together…

Now you were almost there to climb downstairs. From what you gathered, the women seemed overdressed, but you suspected that elaborate evening gowns with an abundance of accessories were the norm tonight. It must be the same with men as well, for they looked very debonair with their black dinner jackets indeed. Trains and bustles, stylish jackets and stoles, furs and pearls, gold and silver, jewels and colourful stones, each hat more decorative and festive than the last. Watching the first-class passengers down there, it truly felt as if the men, women, and even the children here were of royalty. And _you_ were among the crowd as one of them.

Close to the stairway down, you saw Iceland awaiting for any women to notice him and take his hand, but alas, no one seemed to notice. He looked nervous, adjusting the white ribbon on his neck every few seconds. But as he saw a peek of you, he was about to recompose himself when Denmark walked in.

"Hey Emil! Watcha doing?" You saw Denmark smirk at Iceland's attempt at gentlemanly manner.

"I am waiting for Miss [_first name_]; apparently, she does not have an escort at the moment so.."

"HEY, _I_'_M_ SUPPOSED TO DO _THAT_ TO HER!"

"What's that supposed to mean, Mathias?"

"That she's better off with _me_! Kesesese!" You saw Prussia cutting in.

"No, you bastards. I still owe her an apology for the shooting earlier, so _I _should do it instead." Switzerland then interrupted.

"No~ ME!"

"I should do it!"

"Pick some other lady, man! I called her first!"

"No, I did!"

"Well, [_first name_] better pick at some point!"

As you saw the unusual sight in front of you, you sweatdropped. Surely, they must be fighting over your hand. You had seen men battle and women quarrel over many things but _countries_ arguing over _you_? That must be the first time in your life this sort of thing would happen. It must be from either your first-class approved appearance or at least by the quality of your silk dress… you were not sure.

"[_first name_]?" A calmer, more composed voice interrupted the argument. You saw England awaiting for your hand, seeing you in your violet and lace dress, black shoes, lace gloves, and loose hair with the front strands tied back with the lilac ribbon tied into a bow. The natural light from the glass dome and the lamp from the cupid statue revealed yourself more and you looked a porcelain doll. To him, you were a vision of vibrant purple while _you_, seeing England as his proper self, saw him more as a vision of black and various shades of emerald, jade, and bright green.

Realizing that you have to go downstairs, you shyly walked down, your hand grasping onto the railing for support. Sensing many people whispering to each other, you swore that you could hear them, especially the women, saying things like, 'Who is that young lady?' and 'I cannot believe that she stood out from all of us, especially with that handsome gentleman waiting for her..". You even saw Iceland, Denmark, Prussia, and Switzerland gaping in shock, mostly because _England _was the one waiting for you and _not_ one of them.

"I've seen you as beautiful, but tonight, you absolutely looked stunning, love." Watching you with green eyes, he kissed your lace-covered hand, one kiss at the back and a second one at the palm. _And his lips actually touched it_. Seeing that sudden gesture made you blush a tad bit. People would say that you blushed like a lovestruck schoolgirl, but in your defence, you technically _used_ to be a schoolgirl yourself and _will_ be one by the time you land in America, so ha! But anyways, you blushed a light pink.

"_No one has ever kissed me on the hand before.._" You thought to yourself as you held onto his arm while heading towards the Dining Saloon.

Everyone in there were all in high spirits tonight (and luckily for you, less deadly stares from the ladies) and the animated conversations were raised the usual voice level higher. Most of the countries (including England) were sitting close to each at different tables, you could hear them conversing.

You found the appetizer of raw oysters too… salty. Not to mention fishy. The next course of cream of barley soup was more to your taste. Every time you laid down your spoon or folk while you were almost finished, the plate would be taken away and replaced with a fresh one. Among the other courses, you enjoyed roast duckling, château potatoes, and creamed carrots. You also selected a chocolate éclair with vanilla ice-cream as dessert. Delicious!

The concert after evening meal, in which the small orchestra were making music there, was even more stirring than usual at that point and you saw Austria watching them play in admiration. Seeing him in thought, one of the band members actually allowed him to play the piano with them for the next song! More people paid attention to the music as Austria and Mr. Brailey, the pianist of the band, played together in a duet while the sounds of the stringed instruments echoed the room.

"Amazing.. I didn't know that Roderich can play the piano." You turned to Hungary, who was sitting at a chair across you and England (as well as Italy, Iceland, and Norway).

Hungary giggled while watching Austria. "He's quite the music prodigy, that Roddy."

After finishing your raspberry cordial, you were surprised that most of the first-class passengers were trying hard to even _walk_ and seemed rather tipsy, but were all in the spirit of celebration and fun nevertheless. Even though most affectionate couples would be strolling around at the deck, the slightly cold temperature seemed to prevent any of them to do so right now.

"ARTHUR KIRKLAND~" You were surprised to see some of the first-class women and young girls (half of them must've forgot about England while others… still want him) focusing on you and England, who seemed to turn slightly pale at the sight of them.

"[_first name_], do they think that they were still irritated about our relationship?" England asked you in a hushed voice.

"No idea… but if Alfred was involved in this with us, the first thing that he'd say would be.. uh…"

"Be what?"

"…" Now they glared, as if they were enraged…

"RUN!" You shouted as the two of you dashed off to the closest alleyway. You two ran in full sprint, trying to get away from the fanstruck women and girls. They were surprisingly fast, you noticed, despite the heels and fancy shoes they were wearing. A few of the passing men and women, as well as stewards and stewardesses, were surprised at this but did not do anything. Grabbing England's sleeve, you two passed the Grand Staircase and headed for the closest lift.

"Wait, wait, wait!" England cried at the operator, who was about to close the gates. "Take us down! Quickly!"

The women and girls tried to make their way through the lift as well but the elaborate gates closed in time, the lift bringing the two of you down somewhere.

"Bye-bye~" You singsong as you smiled mischievously at the sight of the women growling, unable to believe that they could not make it. You stuck our your tongue at them.

Once they made it to the next floor, you two tried hard to weave your way through the many people there, almost bumping into a steward on the way.

"Sorry!" You hollered out while the steward tried his best to compose himself without yelling. You and England darted down a twisting series of alleyways, lifts, and several flights of stairs. For once, you do not trip, which was hardly surprising. But then again, you and England were not that tired from running either.

By the time you were at one of the F Deck alleyways, the two of you had to stop by for breath. But that only lasted for a moment when the women and the girls came again, this time, desperate to get rid of you and get England all to themselves. They turned port but then realized that it was a dead end. There was nothing else except one door at the side with a sign that said 'CREW MEMBERS ONLY'.

You looked at each other, unsure if this would be the only way to escape, but then again, this would be the only way so they went in, shutting and dead-bolting the door for added security. You could hear many fists pounding out there but the loud sounds of _Titanic_'s engines muted all of the noise surrounded them.

"Great… now there's no way to get away from them further. What do we do now?" England shouted from the noise.

You glanced around the room, only to find a ladder with a slightly hot red glow leading down to one of the boiler rooms (you were not sure which one) at the bottom of the ship.

"We'll have to go down there!" You tried to yell out, pointing at door while covering your ears.

"What did you say?"

You let out a puff of breath; being in a situation like this was getting ridiculous. You yelled out louder this time. "We need to use that ladder!"

"No way! We might be caught!" He protested.

"Yeah, but if we take the other door, we'll be in those women's wrath!"

"….Fine."

Climbing down the escape ladder, the next thing the two of you knew was that the boiler room looked almost exactly like, no offence, Hell.

The roaring furnaces burned with intense fire, the figures working the room looked ghastly, and the swirling fiery smoke made it quite hard to see. It looked more frightening than the last time you had been to one. The heat made your skin sweat a little, but you did not care one bit.

Gazing at the place, you saw a steel alleyway consumed by orange and red fog, leading to the watertight door of Boiler Room #6 (the one that you went into). Even though it will lead to an another hot place like this, it was worth it for times like this. Tugging his sleeve, you gestured England to run across.

"HEY! WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING HERE? YOU SHOULDN'T BE HERE!" You heard one of trimmers shout out.

"Please don't mind us! You're all doing great! Keep up the good work!" You just yelled out while running. You and England dodged the workers and tried to make their way through the steam. At last, you two ended up on Boiler Room #6. It was still hot and steamy, but less than the other one. Running right past the people there, England ended up the one doing the apologizing as the workers yelled at them.

Sometime later, the two of you went down a small flight of stairs leading to a huge room full of cargo boxes and automobiles from the first-class. It must be the storage room (or at least that's what you called it). Compared to the boiler rooms, this room felt cold, due to the exposure of heat.

"Wow… it feels like a maze here- hey England, check it out!" You dashed off to a brand new auburn car with striking beige headlights. It also had a brass trim. It looked different compared to the one England was riding on back in London.

"Do you know what kind of car is this?" You turned to England.

"That, [_first name_], is a Renault Touring Automobile. It must be a new one…" He explained, about to hop on to the driver's seat when you beat him to it, making you smirk. England was about to get inside when you opened the door for him (something that he didn't expect, for it's usually the other way around).

"Allow me, sir." You announced in a more formal tone, taking his hand and leading him to one of the seats facing the driver seat like a chauffeur assisting the employer. The inside seemed to be made of black leather and polished wood, with crystal vases attached at the bulkheads consisting of a single red rose. It looked more like a fairytale coach than an automobile at this rate.

Positioning yourself with the steering wheel and the horn while England rolled down the front window, you said in a accent similar to a posh British valet, "Where to, sir? I shall drive you to anywhere you please."

"To the stars…" He whispered to you, his voice now an octave lower, while wrapping his arms around you.

Realizing that you started to blush, you recomposed yourself yet failing with a shaky voice. "And where exactly in the stars do you wish to go?"

England almost gave off a slight frown at the sudden gesture, noticing that you did not seem to catch the hint yet. "Um… the North Star, perhaps?"

"Alright. Stay seated then." You moved the wheel around with both hands, pretending to drive, while staring off space for a bit.

England leaned over a bit, resting his head with folded arms near the window. He was wondering why do you seem to be tense at his presence at this moment. All he wanted was to hold you close.. but you were not noticing that at all.

"Sir, here we are; the North Star. It may be a risky ride but- England, what are you doing?" You were surprised when you suddenly felt yourself lifted from the driver's seat and into the inside of the automobile, now at the seats facing forward at the back. You found yourself close to his body while England held you close, as if you were a crying child. Blushing harder, you started to pull away but somehow cannot do so.

"[_first name_]? Are you.. alright?" His voice in concern while trying to make you face him.

At first, you wanted to deny at your current emotions, which were guilt, sadness, and uncertainty, but somehow, you felt too nervous, worrying that he will pressure you into telling him the truth.

You sighed. "It's just- do you think that it's impossible to love someone from a different class… or if one is a country or a citizen of yours?"

"[_first name_]-"

"I mean, I am of the second-class, mistaken of third-class, yet I'm masked in the form of a first-class girl! But of you're truly one of the privileged… Not to mention that you're a country and I'm… not. And there would be times when I felt that I have not behaved properly, acting more like America every day-"

"But [_first name_]-"

"And even though _Titanic_ is known as 'the ship of dreams', I cannot help to wonder but… what if you were only a dream while I'm the only one taken from reality? I wish that I can tell that you exist.." You sniffled in his jacket, trying hard not to shed any tears; ladies must not cry in front of the gentlemen!

England bit his lip at your words; somewhere at the back of his mind, he cannot believe that you would think such things, even if the two of you only met for almost a week. But then he remembered how you felt at first near his presence after spotting him heading for Claridge's, frightened at first. Then you became slightly more shy, especially around some of the other countries and the other passengers of the first-class, only to be more confident and spirited when involved into such things like dancing, meeting others of second or third-class, or acting for the movie camera. As a result, anxiety may overpower your mind if you were.. in love with someone like him, perhaps.

"[_first name_], you shouldn't doubt yourself. It does not matter about loving someone by lineage, place in society, or even if you acted differently than I would've hoped…" He sighed, finding it quite hard to explain this to you. "The important thing is that you only love someone by the heart. Right here." You felt his finger lightly poking at where your heart is.

Blinking in surprise, you had to tilt your head up to look directly at him before you countered with, "But what about the part of the 'you as only a dream' thing?"

England had to rub his temples at this, finding your next statement harder to explain out of than the last. I mean, other than America, you seemed to be one of the other people that he had trouble dealing with. So for his next strategy, he decided to use less words and more action, for action can speak louder than words.

He brushed his lips against your lace-covered fingers before trailing off to the back of your right hand. "Tell me then, does this feel real to you? Or just a dream?"

"I-It, uh.. felt sort of real, but I'm not sure…"

You tried to say something else when you felt him kissing you. Compared to what happened yesterday and earlier today, his lips now felt heated, electrifying, and foreign in your touch. Unsure of what to do about it, you tried to kiss him back but felt nervous to do so. But then you felt England's hand directing your face towards his properly, holding it into position, as if he was teaching you how to kiss more properly. As you did your attempts with increasing confidence, his tongue started to lick your bottom lip. You cannot help but to blush yet again.

Parting away for about a centimetre away, you quietly breathed out, "I.. I think I feel it now; you feel more real and not a dream."

"Good." You felt him smirk before kissing you again. This time, it felt a bit more gentle this time, treating you as if you were made of the most delicate porcelain or china. It went deeper with every touch you felt. Even if he started to glide his tongue near your lips and licking the seams of your mouth, you eventually let him, opening your mouth slightly to feel it caressing the inside. By then, your head started to spin, started to feel some sort of desire inside of you, but could not detect it. Sensing that you were now ready, he wrapped his arms closer around you, making the kiss more heated.

Somewhere after a few moments, the kiss felt more passionate, frantic, desperate, needy… and with a hint of lust, thanks to England. Realizing that you needed to breathe for air, he parted for a bit. He was surprised to find a strand of saliva connecting the two of you though, warm yet slightly solid like a piece of thread. Hovering downwards, he started to kiss at your neck and jaw instead, with you finding it fluttery at first, but only until it then turned into more of suckling marks, morphing into a biting sensation. In fact, you even felt a bit of blood running out of the veins but was muted by the feel of his tongue licking the wounds soothingly, apologizing with a small kiss.

"England- _a-ahn.._ what are you-" You began to question when a small moan broke out from your parted lips.

Unlacing the back of your gown, he whispered in your ear, "Are you sure you wanted to go farther? If you want, I can make you feel more wanted than you intended…". His voice now sounded seductive, perhaps lustful even. How was that even possible? I mean, America did mention about him being a bit of a romantic…

Blushing a deep red, it took you a while to figure out what he just said to you. If he said 'farther' and 'more wanted than you intended' in one sentence, then that would mean… you swallowed nervously at the thought. You hoped that whatever that strange feeling was… it couldn't be _that_, would it?

"Would it hurt?" You found yourself asking.

You felt a vibrating sensation near the neck and if you could remember it clearly, England must've started to nip at your earlobe. "Only if you cannot relax properly."

To you, it would be risky. Very risky. Especially since it involved with you giving something up. It might hurt but then again, if you love him that badly, then you should endure it…

"I'll… _I_'_ll do it_…" Your eyelids started to flutter, about to close. "Just please… take.. me."

The last thing that you heard was the sound of the gown and undergarments stripped off and the small gasps and moans from your mouth.

Sometime later, the entire inside of the automobile felt hot and it smelled of some sort of a slightly bitter yet a salty, musky scent. The windows were covered in so much fog from yours and England's breath that when you pressed your hand against it at one point, it left a mark, dragging down towards his back. Trying hard to open your eyes again after keeping them shut for so long, you found emerald-green eyes staring intensively at yours while you felt something thrusted into you by the inside, making you moan loudly.

It was hard to tell what really happened, since it felt cloudy in your mind. But it involved taking each other's clothing off, the dampness of your body, a lot of feathery touches, many kisses, nipping, and the feel of being stretched and thrusted in an agonizing way which was inside of you… alright, so let's just say that if you were the sheath while England was the sword so if the two of you were secure together, then it would result in… well, you get the picture. It felt painful at first, in which he predicted, but then it would feel good, sending pleasure and pain coursing into your body, mind, blood, and spirit.

You felt another thrust in and you could not help but to moan out again. "England, I- _ngh.._ I- _hahh…_" Then you felt heat surging. It became too much, too much….. "I- _ah.._ love you…" Realizing what you had just said, your eyes widened and you covered your mouth in shock.

"_Bloody hell_, _I did I not just say that…_?" You thought to yourself wildly. Whatever it was, you can admit it in private but not so much in public.

"What did you just say?" England's voice sounded even more lustful yet confused this time, the kind of voice that sounded too hard to avoid.

"I said that I- I…"

"I love you." He finished, bringing you into what felt like the hundredth (or was it thousandth?) kiss of this very moment. While the two of you were distracted, you felt some sort of unusual liquidy texture inside of you and some of it ended up on each other's stomachs. Feeling sated, you felt yourself relax while he turned over to the side, pulling you close.

"[_first name_]? You're trembling…" He muttered into your now-slightly damp hair while caressing the marks on your neck.

"I am?" You asked, surprised. You did not realize it but it must be from either the heat or his touches that made you so sensitive… "Forgive me, but this is only my first time and yet it felt… amazing." You explained while snuggling closer, resting your head into his bare shoulder. "Do you mind if I.." You did not finish your sentence, as your eyes slowly closed and you breathed in and out, very slowly. England, watching you rest in his arms with half-lidded eyes filled with love and lust, stroked your hair while whispering sweet yet comforting words into your ear.

Then all of a sudden, the two of you heard footsteps heading downstairs into the storage room and possibly towards the Renault…. thanks to that, your mind snapped back into reality as your eyes flashed open.

"Someone's coming!" You said, almost frightened. Gazing around at the now-neglected clothes and the mess you two created inside, you were worried that it might be either the owner of the car, those women, or someone else…

"Bloody hell… now what do we do, [_first name_]?" He turned to you.

Remembering one of the pranks that you and America had done from the last few Halloweens (he actually taught you this back in London), you could use it as an advantage… "I have a plan." You finally said.

"C'mon, you guys, I'm sure that I heard something over there… AHA- WHAT THE HELL?" Denmark opened the door of the car and he and the other countries (he's with Prussia, Norway, Iceland, Lithuania, Estonia, Latvia, Poland, and Switzerland at the moment) thought that there was a sex scene in there but really, it's empty!

They cannot help but to gape.

At the bow, you and England were now fully clothed again, but full of laughter this time; the two of you cannot stop laughing and giggling.

"Did you see the look on his face? He thinks that we're making out but we're not in there! Hahahahaha!" You tried to say as you shook with laughter once more.

"Yes, I must admit that is quite hilarious." Although he does not care for such shenanigans, he found this trick useful, he admitted. England took a moment to recompose himself before grasping your hand and saying, "When the ship docks, I'm getting off with you.". His voice was soft yet breathy.

"But I thought that you said that you will-"

"I know, but just for a little bit longer, love." He then cut off you sentence with a kiss, in which you immediately replied by kissing back. For a moment, there was no one but you and him… at least until you heard two people up there at the lookout (you've heard of them once so you recognized them).

"Woah… a hot couple in the cold weather, can you believe it?" One of the lookouts, Frederick Fleet, exclaimed in amazement.

"I agree, if it takes that much for us to get warm, I'm out. Besides, they're long as they don't start lovemaking right in front of us." Another lookout, named Reginald Lee, agreed while he let out a whistle.

"HEY, I HEARD THAT!" England shouted from below. The lookouts looked slightly terrified that he noticed, but you just giggled at bit at his reaction.

"Psst! Hey Arthur, we need to talk, man!" You saw Denmark peeking out, making a 'come here' gesture at England's direction. Exactly what could he want from him?

"I'll be right back, alright, [_first name_]?" He said to you before heading off to one of the decks

Staring at the bow of the ship, you watched the brilliant night sky complete with dazzling stars. The water looked like glass and the lights from the ship made the area less lonely, despite the dark, isolated Atlantic Ocean.

"You two would've made a swell couple, miss." You heard Mr. Lee calling out.

"One of the only ones that are truly affectionate here on this ship." Mr. Fleet added.

"Oh really? Thanks!" You yelled back casually before looking at the bow again. While listening to the lookouts making casual conversation (you heard them saying something about forgetting their binoculars back at Southampton and that they needs to keep their eyes alert) you checked your pocket watch to find that it was now 11:40 PM; almost midnight. Even though it was cold, you were actually pretty warm due to what you and England did. And today was definitely-

All of a sudden, the night sky soon turned pitch black and there were no stars anymore. The temperature soon turned really cold and half of the bow was surrounded by white. Your eyes went wide at this very moment and your jaw dropped open in shock.

The next thing you knew, you cried out, "OH MY GOD! IT'S AN ICEBERG!".

"Where?" Mr. Fleet asked as he looked around. "I don't see- _ICEBERG RIGHT AHEAD_!"

"OFFICER MURDOCH, REVERSE THE ENGINES AND TURN!" You heard Mr. Lee call out afterwards.

From the aft, you can hear the engines trying to steer, but then all of a sudden, you heard a dreadful sound at the starboard side.

_CRUUUUUNCH~_!

Then you saw ice breaking off from the iceberg and landing to the decks on starboard. Startled, you lost your balance and tripped. Chucks of soft frozen ice came crashing down, making the floor slippery and cold. Then you heard the sound of running water leaking… possibly towards the boiler rooms?

Loud voices came from the inside, making the words 'iceberg', 'collision', and 'sinking' stand out. You didn't understand why… but now you had just one question:

_What just happened_?


	6. April 15, 1912

**Eugene: **So last chapter had the back-and-forth bits of fun, chasing, emotional drama, and some slightly censored sex… but for this one, it will have some more emotional drama as well as sadness, grief, shock, and all that stuff put in… I just hope I even _wrote_ it ok. O.O Like I said, writing and editing are not easy but I'm trying. I've also been reading a lot of _Titanic_-related stories and watching some movies lately… for inspiration. XD Also, try to hold in those tears and bring lots of tissues if you can. If this current piece of writing's making you cry, please let me know in a review… I'll try to figure out something to calm you readers down. ONWARD WITH THE DISASTER CHAPTER!

**[Edit: Sorry if some of the things looked 'inaccurate' but believe me, this is the first time I wrote any disaster-related stuff and this is only a fanfic so PLEASE DEAL WITH IT.]**

**Monday. April. 15, 1912**

_**R.M.S Titanic**_**, **_**Somewhere at the Atlantic Ocean, R.M.S Carpathia**_

Unsure of what to do now, you headed back inside. By then, many people surrounded the place, wondering what the commotion was about. Some were heading for the decks, wondering if either _Titanic_ hit another ship or grazed an iceberg (the latter's true). By then, the atmosphere changed. Instead of the cheeriness of the evening, there seemed to be confusion. Another sudden moment of change would be the sound of the engines were not there anymore. Normally they were would be there… but your ears felt a little hollow from _not _hearing it. Voices in the alleyway would keep saying the word 'iceberg', but no one seemed upset.

Now almost at your cabin, you stopped by to check at the time in your pocket watch. It currently said 12:00 AM; midnight. So at this rate, the day changed from Sunday. April 14, 1912 to Monday. April. 15, 1912 (something that you did _not_ see it coming). Reaching for the door of the cabin, you felt a hand tugging at the shoulder, turning you around. You found yourself facing a cabin steward.

"Miss, you need to put on something warm and report to the Boat Deck with your life belt at once." He said, seemingly calm yet actually serious and grim-looking at the same time.

"A life belt? What for?" You found yourself asking him.

"…This is only a routine drill, no need to fret. But you must do it, captain's orders." Was all he could say before leaving to warn other passengers nearby.

A drill? People say that _Titanic_'s the 'Unsinkable Ship', but why would they need a drill? For testing? For security?

Once you went inside, the cabin felt quiet in an eerie way, except for the sounds of people outside. With shaky hands, you tried to change into the warmest clothes you have from both the trunk and your carpetbag. Your button-boots, the thickest petticoat, your lilac dress (well, it's warm for the winter and cool for the summer, to be precise), a white blouse, a brown sweater, the thickest stockings, and your mother's smaller plaid coat. Over all of this, you wore your father's long navy-blue coat for added warmth. You tucked the white gloves at one pocket, your pocket watch at the other with the lilac ribbon (you tied it around the chain as a bow so that you can identify it). You even managed to fit in your 'Peter Pan' book in another pocket. You also found a life belt (it was the colour of canvas, shaped like a rectangle with smaller hard rectangles at the front as well as strings and straps at the sides) on top of the wardrobe. You tried your best to put it on, even though it made you feel bulky and stiff like some of the cargo that you had saw earlier. In fact, it was hard to even _walk_ with that thing on!

Following the others at the Grand Staircase, you noticed that most of the first-class wore their formal evening wear while a few only wore the practical warmer clothes with their life belts. Finding the passengers from second and third-class somewhere farther away, most of them seemed to wear their life belts over their nightclothes and coats while wearing slippers. It seemed that the passengers thought that whatever everyone else was doing, it must be either a jolly game or an irritating inconvenience. You would also spot a few countries here and there, but among the crowds of people, it was hard to tell which one.

Finding yourself now at the Boat Deck outside, you were surprised to realize that it grew _colder_ than last time when the iceberg struck the ship! So cold that in fact, you can see your breath for a few seconds due to exposure in the icy air, as if it was winter and not spring. It was a good thing that you were properly dressed because otherwise, you would freeze. Everyone shivered, grumbling that they would be better off inside their own warm cabins. At one point, a man behind you mumbled out, "This is absurd. The White Star Line will certainly be hearing from _me_." and the others were quick to agree.

The ship's officers and seamen uncovered the canvas sheets, revealing the lifeboats. Glancing at the people around you, you wondered why would the lifeboats be uncovered at this moment and would they even fit this much people in the ship? The passengers were huddled up into small, tight groups like Norwegian anchovies, watching with little interest and they were chatting with each other, wondering what's going on. The officers were calling for people to get onto the lifeboats but almost no one volunteered; after all, Titanic was so warm and safe and yet the Atlantic Ocean looked dark, lonely, and somewhat dangerous near the pitch black sky.

You saw Captain Smith and Mr. Andrews passing by and they had some sort of monotone expressions on their faces. Normally, they would reassure the passengers but so far, nothing. A few of the first-class ladies theorized that everything's perfectly fine and everyone agreed. You were not sure though.

The officers were trying to convince passengers to come aboard the lifeboats yet only the few brave obeyed, making the others follow meekly. Lifeboats were slowly filling up and lowered down, although the passengers inside were not much. An odd thing that you realized about them was that most seemed to be of first-class… would they be in there by class? That was one question. Another odd thing would be that officers would repeatedly yell out 'Women and children first!', meaning that only _women_ and _children_ go first and _not_ the men. And yet, the countries were the exception (you saw Russia, Sweden, Poland, and Italy heading to the lifeboats themselves so far… probably). So at this rate, the second question would be this: Why women and children first? If there were enough lifeboats, they would probably just filled the lifeboats up with people no matter the gender or class.

All of a sudden, a tremendous amount of steam rose up noisily from the funnels above you. A sense of hope sparked into your head; perhaps that the engines can start again!

Most of the passengers were quiet, unsure of if they should get to the lifeboats or not. They were also waiting for any orders to be told of what should they do or where to go. All you could hear was the shouts from the men manning the lifeboats as they yelled things like 'Lower away!', 'We need an able-bodied seaman over here!', and of course, 'Women and children first!' yet again. One of the passengers near you mentioned something about a crash of ice (from the iceberg, you realized) falling upon the aft decks and that some of the people from third-class were playing football with the chunks while some of the first-class wandered there, watching and collecting their own ice.

All of a sudden, you felt a forward tilt of the decks suddenly making _Titanic_ tipping over bit by bit. You could not believe it but the ship can't _actually_ be sinking, can it?

Before you can come up with a theory, you saw a blinding flash of white light and heard a strange yet deafening whistling sound followed by the sound of explosions up in the sky. The noise made pretty much everyone duck down in shock and confusion while you saw the once-brave faces now replaced with fear.

"Distress rockets. I knew it…." You heard another man mutter out.

"_Wait_, _distress rockets_? _If those things up there are it_, _then that must mean…_" Your thoughts were short-circuited at the end, as you cannot think of an answer about the distress rockets.

You looked around you to find that the crowds grew less packed but more scattered. You saw J. Bruce Ismay, the managing director of the White Star Line (you heard of him from the other first-class passengers a couple times), trying to get passengers into the lifeboats. The officers looked slightly irritated at the people in there, possibly because that only few men and most of the countries (the male ones) got into the lifeboats and not the requirements of women and children (but the teenage males possibly did _not_ count), but nevertheless tried to lead the other women and children into the boats safely and calmly.

One very odd thing that you had noticed was that most of the women suddenly realized that they do not want to leave their husbands behind (even though that they seemed to care less about them at first) and the children pleading for their fathers or any other male relative to join them (as they obviously care about them more), even though most stayed behind. Some women would say 'If you go, then I go.' to their husbands, ending up huddling close to each other back at the decks as if nothing else was there around them but themselves only. That was another odd thing.

Seeing and hearing those sorts of things made you realize something with a cold shock in your mind. "_England… HE_'_S SUPPOSED TO BE NEAR THE BOW_! _I ALMOST FORGOT ABOUT HIM_!" You thought to yourself wildly, unsure of what to do now. From the looks of it, perhaps there would be more lifeboats out there and more space for the passengers. And besides, you started to worry about where would England be… without a second to reconsider, you dashed off to find him; you would have to wait for your turn for now.

While running, you saw tiny lights… perhaps it's another ship (you cannot tell which one, since it was too dark to see)! A sense of possible hope rushed into you; perhaps that if the ship's sinking, then everyone here might as well be rescued. But then you heard some people thinking that the light may be tiny stars that were trying to be uncloaked from the darkness or the northern lights (you had heard of this from Canada, Iceland, and Norway; apparently, it's real name is called aurora borealis). Although now that they mentioned it, the lights did not move, but appeared farther away. But if it _was_ a ship, then how could it _not_ reply to the distress rockets?

Somewhere at the decks, you can hear the band (you can tell from earlier last night) playing a series of light, spirited tunes. The music _would_'_ve_ made you relax if only your mind was not so jumbled up with fear, confusion, and lack of concentration… weaving your way through the ship, you saw that there were still people mingling in the foyer and some still in their cabins, either staying in bed or spending their possible last moments together (at one point, you saw an old couple holding each other close in bed and a young mother telling a story to her two young children in there) yet the alleyways were deserted like a ghost town from America's cowboy stories.

As you continued moving, the angle of the ship grew steeper and you had to run faster, even though it was a bit tricky to do so without tripping. _Titanic was actually sinking_. You cannot believe it and here you thought that this was only a drill or something quite like that. The proof of evidence said all when you started to see water at the lower floors.

You went up and down, port and starboard, but no England. Or any of the countries that were not at the Boat Deck earlier. Perhaps he was at the Promenade or helping others at the poop deck… you were not sure, but one thing was certain for that matter was that he was definitely _not_ in his own cabin (you checked earlier, which by the way, was red and gold compared to yours). Going lower and lower, you ended up standing there in the empty alleyways somewhere farther down.

"ENGLAND! ENGLAND! ARE YOU IN HERE? HELLO~?" You tried to call out, using his original country name since most of the cabins were empty with very few people (who did not notice you yelling). Running faster, you kept calling out his name, both his normal one and his human name. The riveted metal floors were mostly dry, except for a slight bit of dampness (it must've been from the water). Not looking at where you were ending up and at what was on the floor, you tripped again, but this time, someone caught you…

_England._

"A-Ah! England! Thank goodness I found you!" You exclaimed, trying to get up. "Where have you been?"

"Correction;" England informed you. "Where have _you_ been? I thought that you went straight to the lifeboats!"

"I was going to but-"

You suddenly felt his hand grip onto yours, as if he was about to shove you away. But he made no move to do so. "[_first name_], your place is at the Boat Deck; it's unsafe here."

Your place. Your place… was it because you're a female? Or that of the first-class (now that you mentioned it, the last bit was quite inaccurate; you're actually in _second_-class)? Or you were supposed to make sure other people boarded before you do yourself? Or perhaps… no, screw that; tonight, it seemed like 'place' felt out of balance. Nothing made sense to you at this very moment.

"England, I-" You tried to say but got cut off.

"I'll be fine by myself and don't you worry about me." He just said, looking straight ahead from aft. "There isn't a moment to waste."

"But I-" Your expression turned uncertain. "The other countries and the passengers are heading to the lifeboats themselves so I'm sure that there are more left-"

"There are no other lifeboats." England then interrupted you in a grim voice, his eyes looking dark with seriousness.

"How can that-" You were about to ask him the question ' How can that be possible? How will they get off safely?'. But then as realization hit you like a bullet into your head. All of a sudden, your face suddenly grew shocked with dread, fear, guilt, and disbelief; if you can remember what Russia said about the story 'Futility' and your conversation with Mr. Andrews three days ago, _combining_ them with the collision of the iceberg, the limited number of lifeboats, and the people in the decks and/or somewhere down below close to the water, then that would only mean….

"_They would not get off safely._" You found yourself saying, realizing the answer before England can even say it. "_And I would not probably get off safely…_"

"Exactly. _Titanic_ has sixteen lifeboats… twenty, if you count the collapsibles. The lifeboats can carry sixty-five people each while the collapsibles carries forty-seven. There are about two-thousand, two-hundred and eight passengers and crew on board here. By the time each lifeboat is filled to capacity, one-thousand, two-hundred and twenty-eight people would be saved. Approximately nine-hundred and eight of them would _not_ make it…."

The very fact was so hard to take in, as the reality of this possibility started to fill you with dread. More dread than you can ever take. Even though England's knowledge with ships (since his pirate years) made some sense, it still felt overwhelming. That brought you to the conclusion; _Titanic _is really sinking and not many passengers will make it. Thinking about this brought more pain into your head, throat, heart, and stomach. Perhaps you should not think of the results too much..

It was very quiet around the alleyways. Quiet except for the sounds of the possibility of rising water, running footsteps, or the unexplained creak of metal. But there was no sound of the seawater rushing; perhaps that the worst of it was above the two of you at the moment. You were used to being quiet, but not for _that_ long! In fact, the silence felt painful as well.

"[_first name_]? Since you have been friends with America for so long, have you ever… considered yourself a 'hero' other than him?" He asked you all of a sudden, breaking the awkward yet grim silence.

"W-What? No! He is the original 'hero' and I am nothing but a useless, out-of-place, and a completely meek Brit-"

"[_first name_], listen to me!" England yelled out, losing his patience as he gripped on you by the shoulders, making you look at him directly into the eye. "You must not think of such things that are bloody as-" He sighed, loosening his hold when he realized that he cannot explain what he was going to say properly and as he saw you shaking with fear. "Alright, so America can be a cocky, egoistical git at times, but at least he's not vain enough to save others and to try to be brave… if he can do it, perhaps you should as well."

You honestly did not think that he would mean it…. but many people were on the brink of danger.. most of them didn't deserve to die!

Realizing that the last part was completely true, all you could utter out was, "…You're right…".

"Exactly. Besides, you _have_ to survive. For America. For Canada. For your parents. For everyone here in this ship. And for me…"

"Yeah… wait, WHAT?" Then you realized something that completely got you off-guard. "YOU MEAN THAT YOU CAN'T GET TO THE LIFEBOATS YOURSELF? Then we'd better…" You tried to grab his arm tight, as if you were planning to drag him onto the decks up there. But alas, he just stood still, making you give up your strength easily.

"Forgive me, [_first name_], but I'm afraid that since _Titanic_ is manned by me, the country of England, that may mean that I will not make it myself…." Was all England could say in a voice tinged with seriousness yet gloom. Your expression changed to shock yet again, this time with your jaw dropping; you had heard of the quote 'The captain goes down with the ship' (you were not sure _why_ but something tells you that if it was true, then Captain Smith won't make it) but a _country_ going down with the ship? That was just so…. unbearable. Just plain unbearable.

Without England… how will the land itself make it throughout later history? And another problem, do countries even _die_, despite their immortality? Thinking about all this made it feel painful once more as you almost groaned about it.

"But I need you to come with me, I am absolutely sure that-" Before you could even finish your sentence, you could hear more rushing water, plunging the alleyways with more water.

He held his hand out, reaching for yours. "Allow me to take you back upstairs now… quickly!"

You nervously held his hand, surprised that it felt damp and cold to the touch now, as he swiftly led you back to the decks. There were still a few more lifeboats left, which was kind of a relief, although it was hard to tell from the distance.

"Promise me that you will go straight to the lifeboats. And you'll have to make sure the other countries are safe, even if a few of them are the ones that I sort of hate…." England then instructed, gripping you by the shoulders once more, but with less pressure this time. Part of you wanted to just save him and get it over with, another part of you suggested that you should go down with _Titanic_ instead of him, and a tiny bit of mind just wanted you to obey his order. Deciding that it may be best to do what he wanted, you shyly nodded, hiding half of your face with your hands as you tried hard to hold up any tears. But you felt England's hands lowering yours away and started to caress your tear-stained cheeks.

"Now my mind will be easy." He smiled, tilting your chin up. "Would you mind me one last favour though?"

Nodding quickly, you said, "Anything. Anything if it's even risky…".

He did not say anything but letting a finger trace the contours of your slightly bruised, now dark-pink lips (that result actually came from earlier… activities), he sealed yours with his. Feeling a sudden burst of shock once more, you almost flinched but then realized that _you_ wanted the kiss as well, even if this very day may the last you'll ever see him again. Accepting this feeling of desire and wanting, you kissed England back with more fierce and passion this time, doing your best to drink in anything of him. Him and him only…

Then you felt a kiss on your forehead and now felt nothing but cold air surrounding you as well as something slightly cold on your neck. Opening your eyes, you scanned around the room, realizing something.

_He left._

You almost wanted to cry again, but you have to be strong and brave for England. You just have to be! Besides, this is for America, Canada, your parents, the other countries… oh, and the other passengers, even if some of the first-class ones were arrogant. Wiping the remaining tears off your eyes and cheeks with your coat sleeve, you were just about to head for the lifeboats themselves when you suddenly heard somebody way down there….

"HELLO~? IS ANYONE IN THERE? I NEED HELP OVER HERE, MAN!"

The voice was someone else this time, male yet strangely familiar. It was hard to tell who was it down there, due to the many floors the voice traveled.

"Whoever it was, I must save him!" You said to yourself, replacing sadness with determination instead. But then you realized something. "Oh wait… if I did, then I won't be able to make it.."

Then again, it _might _be a country in trouble and England _did_ say that you must make sure that they would be all safe… "I'm sorry, England." You just whispered right out in the open before heading to, not the stairs, but to the lifts.

The lift operator, you were not sure of his name, looked up to find you standing there near the doors and said in an agitated voice, "Miss, you're supposed to be in the lifeboats with the others. The lifts are just about to close-"

"Just take me down." You interrupted. "I think… someone may be in trouble down there."

The operator pinched the bridge of his nose before giving up. "Fine. Just get on."

As the lift slowly went down, you cannot bear to see some of the sights going on at lower floors. People would try to get to the decks themselves, only to be blocked by locked gates guarded by someone in the crew. Some would try to smash the gates, some from other countries tried to translate everything from instructions of putting out fires to the warnings of the guard, while others… just gave each other teary farewells.

"Ah! Jesus Christ! There's still water down here!" Startled by the man's voice, you looked down to find seawater heading to the lift, about the drown it. You had to back away to get away from the water.

"Go up, go up! Head to the floor above it!" You shouted, causing him to do what he was told.

Quickly heading to the alleyways of the above floor that was _not_ full of water, you said a polite yet quick 'Thank you' to the operator before heading down to the stairs leading to the floor below.

To your surprise, the alleyways were halfway covered in seawater, covering half of your body. It felt icy cold, as if a thousand or so knives were about to pierce you at any given moment. At this rate, it felt more like liquid fire than icy water. Thankful for the lifebelt on you and the floor still there despite being submerged, you stubbornly 'walked' around, trying to find the voice.

"PLEASE~ CAN'T SOMEONE HEAR ME?" There it was, that voice again, this time more louder (meaning that your prediction of which floor the voice was in was actually right).

"Oh shut up, Den." Came another voice, this time, it sounded monotone yet strained. Going closer to starboard, you found a familiar country struggling with a door.

"Norway?" You choked out from a mouthful of water that you swallowed by accident; it tasted saltier than the pool water, which was awful now that you thought of it.

He looked up as he heard your voice, surprised that you were here. "[_first name_]? What are you doing here? Where is England?"

"He- oh god-" You tried to say despite the water choking your speech. "He wanted me to head for the lifeboats but then I heard someone here…"

"[_first name_]? Thank god you're here BUT JUST GET ME OUTTA HERE ALREADY!" The voice yelled again; you recognized that it was Denmark in there.

"Norway, help me take the door down." You instructed to the Norwegian as the two of you started to lunge at the battered door, despite the weight of the water pulling in.

You two tried to take it down with as many blows possible, but alas, the door stayed intact. But then you saw something long and silver floating at the water's surface. As it moved closer to your direction, you realized that it was an… _an axe_? Unlike the ones that you would use to cut wood, this one has a grand blade with unusual engravings of foreign design and there's a king's crown small as a spinning top on the chain dangling on the handle. Reaching for it, you struck it at the wooden door, causing many marks and forcing it to come falling down. You and Norway waded to the inside of the room, where you found Denmark handcuffed to a pipe near the bunk beds that the third-class used.

"Denmark?" You were surprised that he would be chained up at a time like this. You cocked your head in curiosity. "Why are you in chains?"

"I don't know!" The Dane exclaimed. "Some idiot tried to lock me away just because I'm carrying my axe around like Switzerland was with his pistol and the fact that I was in that damn storage room- hey, you found it!" As he saw the axe in your hand, he managed to grin. Splashing sounds echoed the room as you heard his feet kicking underwater. "I was moaning in agony, losing it! Norge almost called me insane… ok, you'd better use it to free me from this place. Otherwise, if I'm stuck, I'm doomed."

"How? By slicing up the chains with it?" You looked at him as if he was insane.

"Exactly!"

As you swallowed hard at the thought, you started to back away a little, raising the axe above your head. To be honest, you'd never used an axe or any destructive weapon before. So at this rate, it felt strange just to use Denmark's axe. Shutting your eyes, you swung the axe downward, making the blade lunge at the metal of the chains and the pipe, causing both to split apart by sheer force.

"I AM [_first name_], DESTROYER OF EVIL!" You cried out, raising the axe above your head once more.

"Um, hello? I'm over here." Fluttering your eyes open, you didn't realize that Denmark was free and waist-high in seawater due to your brief victory.

"…Oops. Sorry." You gave him the axe back before heading back to the alleyway. There seemed to be more water flooding so it became harder to walk or even float on it. Because of this, Denmark seemed to realize that you were struggling to move so he had to carry you on his back until the three of you made it to the slightly drier floor above.

"C'mon! We gotta head to the lifeboats and- oh my god, _now what_?" The mob of people from lower-classes surrounding the steel gates made you, Denmark, and Norway groan in disappointment. The three of you came this far and this was the result…

"Please! Have mercy!"

"We're trying to head for the lifeboats here!"

"Everyone use a different path! This one is locked…"

"Argh! I can't take this!" Lacking patience, Denmark raised his axe and struck at the chains sealing the gates, causing it to open without even using a single key. Everyone around you, including the seaman guarding the gates, just stared in shock and disbelief.

"Don't ask." Was all Norway could mutter out. You could see Denmark heading up as he called out 'Let's go!'. You and Norway had to follow him quickly while the others managed to head up to the decks themselves, relieved that they were all free.

Finally at the Promenade, your heart sank as you saw something that made it grip tightly; _there_'_s only a few lifeboats were left._ You were surprised that you spent that much time in there more than you thought. But before you could think anymore, you heard a startling gunshot. Letting out a scream of panic, you covered your ears.

"Oh my god, what did you do to him?" You heard one woman cry out in utter shock. You saw a glimpse of one man lying on the floor, dying as a rush of blood stained his dinner jacket and life belt. An officer had a pistol, similar to Switzerland's, with him and he was pale, causing you to think that he did it as an accident, although it looked as if it was done for a purpose. With a panic, you could hear the others rushing to the other lifeboats, staying away from the one close to the victim.

But it did not look like the man was alive… but he did not look dead, either-

"[_first name_]! Get in already!" You heard Denmark calling out, heading to one of the lifeboats, Lifeboat 4.

Around you, you could see Colonel Astor helping his [read: second] wife get across the treacherous bridge of deck chairs, making their way to a lifeboat. He mentioned to the officer something about staying with her due to her 'delicate condition' but the officer standing in a serious way only refused. To your surprise, the Colonel accepted this gratefully and asked for the number of the lifeboat (in case he needed to find her) before moving away with Kitty trailing behind.

You could also see the following: a woman trying to board with her children and trying to persuade to the same officer that one of them, a thirteen year old son, in there (it took a while but eventually they all made it in), another woman clutching her son, who was wearing a woman's hat (you assumed that Colonel Astor put that on his head, as you saw it happening), close to her as if he was the world's most precious treasure, a few men trying to sneak in while dressed as women, and the first-class passengers trying to carry their jewels, books, and small dogs with them (thank goodness that your 'Peter Pan' book was hidden safely in your pocket). Typical… A priest was also there, trying to comfort the weeping Christians at his feet.

You were about to make your way through the deck chairs when you felt a tap in your shoulder. You turned around to see a third-class family huddling for their dear lives while a man, possibly the father, tugged on your arm.

"Please take this." He begged, placing a watch on his hand. You were not sure why at first but whatever the reason was, you will do as he wanted you to.

Running farther, you passed the band, consisted of Mr. Brailey as well as the cellists Mr. Bricoux, Mr. Taylor, and Mr. Woodward, the violinists Mr. Hume and Mr. Krins, the bassist Mr. Clarke, and the bandmaster… you were not sure of his name, actually. They were playing a song, which was 'Nearer, My God, to Thee' and they just stopped playing when you heard the bandleader saying, 'Gentlemen, it's been an honour playing with you tonight'. As that happened, you saw a few music sheets fluttering away in a breeze. With agile moves, you retrieved them quickly before facing the band.

"Excuse me, gentlemen, but I believe that you all dropped these.." You said to them, gesturing to the sheets of paper in your hands.

The bandleader looked at them before announcing with, "No need to use them anymore, miss; we're all done with our duty here." Then he looked at you, saying, "You may do with them as you wish.".

Shoving the watch and the music sheets into the same pocket that your book was in, you were about to keep going but stopped to ask him, "Pray tell, what is your name?".

"Wallace. Wallace Hartley." Was all the bandleader, Mr. Hartley, said before you left.

Rushing to Lifeboat 4, you were half-climbing, half-falling as you almost tripped, straight towards the ocean, but luckily, Denmark, Norway, as well as a few other women caught you and managed to get you seated safely. As you sat down, something hit you without even realizing it earlier.

"Uh… Lukas?" You turned to Norway, who was sitting across you at the other side, while switching to his temporary human name. "Where's Emil?"

His face looked pale, making you think that perhaps he forgot about Iceland… until now. It was too late for him to turn back though, besides, if anyone else _did_ go back, they would never return…

Someone cried out 'Lower away!' and the lifeboat landed in an erratic fashion. The stern dropped first before the bow. You saw many people up there watching with fear and envy. The last thing you saw up there were 1. Kitty staying close to her master and 2. A young couple, who reminded you so much of you and England (in fact, they were one of the people that you saw at the bow earlier in the afternoon, doing the same thing England did to you), mouthing out 'Good luck' in your direction.

Since _Titanic_ was very low in the water (something that you didn't see coming), it was a short trip down. One of the three sailors used a knife to try to cut the ropes free from the davits.

"I forgot to sharpen my knife!" You heard him exclaim in disbelief. Everyone in the boat, including you, watched the sailor struggled before Denmark swiftly used the axe of his blade to cut all of the ropes to let go. They all had their eyes widen in shock at this very sight. At least, that was before everyone in the boat saw that Titanic looked like that she's _actually_ sinking.

"My God, she really is going down." A woman nearby whispered to herself.

The portholes were still brightly lit, but you can still see water rising through C Deck and making its way upward. Heavy objects such as chairs were thrown down like rain. At first, you thought that everyone just went mad, but then you realized that the objects could be used as floatation devices.

"Row with all your might! Before we get sucked under!" A man yelled out, making the people near the rows startled as they tried to row themselves. Since you were very close to one, you had to help them. The row was not very heavy, but then again, it felt heavier on water instead of the floor (like the one in the rowing machine). Denmark did the similar thing, but with his axe instead, which made Norway facepalm at that part. First they rowed one way, but then reversed direction. You were not sure who's in charge of the lifeboat at this moment but it was hard to figure that out since you cannot take your eyes off the sinking ship.

Two men had jumped off the ship earlier and now tried to swim towards to Lifeboat 4. Even surrounded by other people with their body heat once they were picked up, they were still shivering from the brief contact of freezing Atlantic waters. As the ship sank lower and lower, you could still hear the faint sounds of violins played aboard, shattering glass, crashing metal, and some people screaming as they leapt into the water. Others scrambled to the stern, hoping to save themselves. All in all, the surroundings in the ship looked completely frantic, as if you were inside a bad dream that was crushing your mind. Although now that you thought of it… if _Titanic_'_s_ called 'The Ship of Dreams', then doesn't the sinking actually indicated _a nightmare_?

No one moved, no one looked away, no one reacted, no one spoke, no one even _breathed_. The horror coming from the last moments was too awful to watch but it was completely impossible to look away. _Titanic_ sank lower and lower in a dramatic way, forcing you to stare at the very scene as if you saw America or one of your parents dying while one of them was bitten by Dracula. The weight of the water in the front compartments pulled the bow downward, making the ship look like it was about to be devoured into the evil forces of the night. Two of the funnels started to fall apart and in a split second, you started to hear… _tearing sounds_?

As that happened, lights started to flicker on and off, on and off, while rivets started to pop and deck planks started to snap. The sound was deafening enough to make yourself deaf and you had to cover your ears quickly.

All of a sudden, your eyes grew wide as _Titanic_ started to rip herself apart into half! More people in the ship screamed in the stern and above water. Because of this, you almost screamed out 'NO!' as you realized that many passengers might loose their lives by now. The bow was gone now, consumed by the ocean, but the stern started to bob upright. It was like this for about five minutes until the stern itself was full of water and started to sink. More people started to fall down into the water, causing new screams to mix with the old ones. Lights were all now extinguished and the never-ending echoes of smashing, crashing, and tearing of metal and wood filled the air.

Trying to make your mind distracted, you quickly checked your pocket watch to find that the time was now 2:20 AM (in the morning); two hours and many minutes counting after the collision. The next thing you knew, the stern was gone as well, making the very spot completely dark as the ship's brand-new grave of the underwater dead, which could only mean one thing to you now…

_Titanic was gone._

After it sank, there were sounds of unspeakable screaming filled up the entire world. Hundreds of people dying, screaming frenzied, terrified screams. Now scared, you tried to cover your ears again to block the noise, but it didn't work. You wished that the sinking was nothing but a dream and that you would still be on the ship (in which it's _not_ sinking). But unfortunately, everything around you looked real, felt real, sounded real, and they were actually real….

"W-W-We must go back." You then heard one of the women trying to say, her voice completely shaky. "W-We m-m-must help th-them."

"We can't!" Another woman exclaimed, now in hysterics. "No one can help them anymore; we have to save ourselves!"

Everyone in Lifeboat 4 yelled out their opinions at each other and a near-mutiny happened. You, of course, were very much in favour of returning to save others (I mean, if some were not saved, that would be just cruel…). Denmark and Norway seemed to be on the same side as you were. Finally, one of the only men, who he introduced himself as Quartermaster Perkis, made the decision of trying to at least save a few passengers. Since he was the one who's in charge of the lifeboat, everyone, including you, Denmark, and Norway, everyone had to do his bidding.

As the lifeboat rowed back, you struggled to keep everything steady with the oar in your hand as you paddled. Everyone managed to save around three half-frozen men out of the water so far. While searching, you saw what you thought was a chunk of ice from the iceberg, but then realized the texture looked softer and that there was a bit of violet under it and not red like the very bottom of _Titanic_. Squinting closer, you recognized a familiar face…

"Lukas," You finally said after many minutes of silence. "I think Emil's over here!" You pointed to the now-visible Icelander shivering from the cold. You and Norway immediately pulled Iceland to safety, wrapping him into his arms while letting him use his dark brown coat to keep him warm.

"L-L-Lukas? I'm s-so c-c-c-cold." Iceland tried to say but Norway just hugged him closer, murmuring comforting words.

"Shh… it's ok, you're safe now, _lillebror_….."

"….What do you just called me?"

"..Nothing."

So far, you helped everyone to save about five or six men. You thought that England would be one of them, but alas, no. Your thoughts were unconfirmed. One of them was already clutching a bottle of brandy and Quartermaster Perkis threw it overboard, since the man was already intoxicated and that he may become unruly later on before help would arrive. _If_ help would ever arrive, he meant. Since the men, including Iceland, were wet from the seawater, some of the salty, cold water reached the lifeboat, covering your button-boots completely. You did not care, though, since they would be dry later anyway.

The screams of the dying passengers felt like it could last forever and they all seemed to echo into your mind. It sounded horrifying, deadly, and unearthly, the kind that would've sickened the very Devil himself and perhaps even put him into shame. You were not sure which was worse though; the screams themselves or the way they started to fade afterwards? After a mere minute, you decided that it must be both. There seemed to be enough room in Lifeboat 4 for a few more, but the quartermaster already commanded to row in a different direction and you could not do anything about it, so you just nodded and rowed away. Muttering the words 'I'm sorry' every time you saw someone freezing to death.

Another thing: not only did you saw people dying around you, but also numerous objects that were lost by the owners. Making sure that they may be back with their (possibly alive) owners, you picked up so far a violin, a framed photograph of a third-class family, a child's wooden soldier, a dime-store book, and even Mr. Marvin's movie camera with the film still inside.

Everyone was cold, wait, no, _freezing. _That also included Denmark, Norway, and Iceland. You were not sure about yourself though, since you managed to dress yourself warmly and properly. But the freezing air around your face sure made it as if you were flushed. The rescued men, like Iceland, had chattering teeth and other than trying to keep them warm, no one else knew what to do. Even Quartermaster Perkis was not sure of which way to go now (and here you thought that he was better off in charge). Huddling yourself close while holding the row tight, you looked up at the dark sky to realize that a few stars came back, but looked small as dots now, barely there.

All of a sudden, you heard a whistle blowing and everyone had to row to the direction of the sound. Another lifeboat, (Lifeboat 14) commanded by someone named Officer Lowe came by, finding Lifeboat 4. He wanted as many lifeboats as possible to tie up together for safety, just in case. Three other lifeboats came and answered the call as Officer Lowe transferred all of his passengers into Lifeboat 4. He himself was also planning to return to where _Titanic_ was and try to rescue more people. Without any more words, the officer left.

While everyone waited, the boat drifted aimlessly. There were lots of children and a few babies there, possibly crying. Few of the women were seasick (two were also crying) and the frozen men started to have ravings, since one was obviously drunk. Other than that, Lifeboat 4 was not a quiet boat. You also heard a few conversations but everyone, including you, were silenced by grief, shock, and the painful cold. Most also tried to stay warm, even if they failed miserably (in fact, two of the men in the lifeboat died in the process!). Even Denmark and Norway could not do anything about it by now…

_BANG_!

Almost ending up asleep, you were suddenly startled by the sound of gunfire.

_Gunfire_? How could there be gunfire at the watery ruins..?

_BANG_, _BANG_! _BANG_!

Now everyone, including Quartermaster Perkis, was even more startled at the misplaced sounds. But what was even more surprising was that you now saw something floating. It was small, bronze-coloured, and had several inscriptions. Somehow, the floating thing was actually familiar to you, as you remembered from what happened while leaving Queenstown.

Hearing more '_BANG_!' sounds, you now saw lightning-white flashes of light and the peppering of more bullets…

"Quartermaster, row to the gunfire, quickly!" You urged him, ending up with many weird looks from the passengers. Even Denmark and Norway looked at you as if you were insane.

"Are you mad, miss?" Quartermaster Perkis tried to reason. "There's a chance that we'll be-"

"DO IT _NOW_! OR ELSE _WE_ WILL ALSO DIE WITH THE SHIP!" Was all you could demand. What you said sounded a little harsh, but you had no choice but to say it.

With a gulp, the quartermaster ordered a command to row forward and you immediately did as you were told, keeping an eye out on the way. As the lifeboat went closer and closer, the gunfire sounded slower and more strained. Now seeing a familiar-looking pistol with a few bullets like the one you saw a few minutes ago. The one holding the pistol was a man with chin-length blonde hair tired-looking green eyes…

"M-Mathias, Lukas, help me pull him to safety! I think I just found_ Vash…_" Without any more arguments, the three of you just pulled up Switzerland by the arms and retrieved him into the lifeboat, pistol and all. He kept shivering and swearing in German, French, Italian, and another language you cannot place, but started to have a strange flush in his cheeks as he saw you wrapping him with your mother's plaid coat for warmth (you were still wearing your father's navy blue coat though).

Officer Lowe then returned with four more survivors, who you realized that most of them were, again, strangers. And no England. You did notice that Finland was with them though, also wet and freezing, which made five survivors in total.

All of the tied-up lifeboats then met up with one of the collapsible lifeboats and another lifeboat, Lifeboat 12 possibly. There were about eighteen or twenty men in there now. Prussia, Italy, Lithuania, and Latvia were also the survivors rescued from the water. You could see other countries there but still no England. Where could he be…?

The water in the lifeboats started to reach your knees and the hem of your lilac dress, since there were more people swamped among each other. Before you could do anything about it, a woman shouted something about a ship. At first, no one believed her, but then as you squinted more, you saw that she's right; there _was_ a ship coming! A steamer was heading this way!

As a feeling of hope relieved everyone for the first time in many hours, the sky started to turn bright and the ship was still approaching. The sunrise looked absolutely beautiful, with its pinks and blues, though it revealed a surprising sight as well; a mountain range consisted of icebergs! Just like the one from earlier. They looked invisible in the dark, but they were everywhere in the daylight. Even if the icebergs were lethal, they looked beautiful somehow…. in a slightly horrific way.

"Hey, what time is it?" Denmark suddenly asked the other passengers. He rubbed his eyes to get rid of the sleepiness.

A woman checked her watch for the time, but you beat her to it as you reached for your pocket watch. "It was-"

"About 5:00 AM." You cut her off, but then turned surprised as you suddenly realized that it had been only a few hours already and yet, it's daylight now! At this rate, it felt more like months, not hours.

It took a while to bring every single lifeboat together and by the time the ship reached Lifeboat 4, you checked for the time to realize that it was now almost 8:00 AM. There were ladders and cloth slings for the passengers to use to get in. Most used the cloth slings, since they were too tired, but you chose a ladder to use instead. You do not feel too tired, but you had to save strength.

As you made it to the deck, a uniformed man helped you aboard. He also happened to have a pencil and a long list full of names, most were passengers and few were crew and countries.

"Your name, miss?" He asked you kindly as you gazed up at the sky. As you heard his question, you felt some sort of a painful feeling washing over you again. Part of you, for some reason, wanted to take England's human last name as your own instead (either that or also change your first name), but then again, you may not be recognized by anyone in your family afterwards and it's important to tell the truth… right?

"[_first name_]. [_full name _(_first and last name_)]." Was all you could say before the man wrote your name down and left.

You were given a strange hot liquid (it tasted a bit like coffee… and brandy?) and a sandwich to eat and drink while a doctor examined you, declaring that you were perfectly fit and extremely lucky. You were not sure of the first part, but was definitely certain of the latter. The ship, which you now know was R.M.S _Carpathia_, searched for more survivors, but there was not much debris to be seen now. Another ship, _Californian_, came by and they will continue the search while _Carpathia_ heads to New York. Before steaming away though, the commander of the ship, Captain Arthur Henry Rostron (an odd coincidence: England's human name is Arthur and the captain here in this ship shares the same first name…) and a reverend gathered everyone for a brief service to thank those who survived… and to pray for those who died.

Many must've fell asleep even though it was morning, due to the lack of rest. You were one of the only ones who were still awake. While walking around in the saloon sometime in the afternoon, a sailor passed by, holding what looked like a small white bear with a blue jacket similar to yours. He must've caught you looking curiously at the bear, for he stopped at a moment.

"Miss, will you do me a small favour?" He asked you, patting your head in reassurance.

"Sure, anything." You just replied; _anything_ to get your mind off of the events happening to you would be ok.

"Do you happen to know a little boy named Douglas Spedden?" Douglas… Spedden? Now that he mentioned it, you happened to see a young boy earlier at deck somewhere and heard his name called out by his mother.

"Yes, sort of. Why?" You raised your eyebrow in curiosity.

He handed you the bear. "I believe this may belong to him… will you return this for me? I must help out the captain.." You just nodded before the sailor left, leaving you with the bear.

It took you a while to figure out where this Douglas boy could be. All you know about him was that he was wearing a coat like the one you and the bear were wearing (only shorter). You finally found him in a warm cabin somewhere, playing with another bear (this one was scruffy and brown though). Or at least, _trying_ to play with it, as he looked sad. You peeked into the room, holding out the white bear. The boy, Douglas, saw it and his eyes lit up with happiness and relief as he took the bear and hugged it.

"Polar!" You watched him hug the bear, Polar, over and over again. At least, until Douglas suddenly hugged _you _with Polar, sniffling a bit.

"Thank you, miss." He mumbled out from the folds of your slightly-wet dress. Realizing that this very moment reminded you of how you could've felt with England, all you could do was to comb through his hair and give him a hug back before leaving.

As evening came and you started to sleep, you did one last prayer to the passengers who died along with _Titanic_.

You pray that they were all in peace.


	7. April 16, 17, and 18, 1912

**Eugene: **Ok, so the last chapter was dramatic. But then again, the genre of this story DID say "drama" as well as "romance", not "tragedy" because of a reason. Anyway, there's not much in there so far but you might get teary at the ending (since there's a reunion in there). ONWARD WITH CHAPTER 7! And did I mention that most of the chapters are edited at least once or twice..?

**Tuesday. April. 16, 1912**

_**R.M.S Carpathia**_**, **_**Somewhere at the Atlantic Ocean**_

So far, everyone else, including you, were still full of grief from what happened yesterday. Last night was the worst for you, especially since you ended up crying when you weren't supposed to. Because of that, it felt too difficult to fall asleep or to close your eyes for that matter. It was also hard to eat meals, drink liquids (even water), or even to _think_. Memories of what happened yesterday kept rushing to your head and it was hard to stop thinking about it. Part of you wanted to scream, cry, punch, kick, whatever, but as a young lady, you would never do such a thing. At least, you tried very hard _not_ to.

Right now, some of the passengers were still crying (for how long exactly?) while others tried to set their minds off by conversing with their friends and beloved family members. Most of the countries were trying to put on brave faces, but from their red-rimmed eyes, perhaps they were crying as well, as they kept shaking and you could see beads of tears coming out from their eyes. The remaining crew from _Titanic_ would glare at _Carpathia_'_s_ own crew, since the ship herself was made by Cunard, another shipbuilding company and White Star Line's rival. But other than that, it was either too quiet or too depressing around the decks due to the air of the passengers (by air, I actually meant presence).

Watching all of this was too painful to bear, so you had to stay away for a bit.

This afternoon, you heard shouting and insults somewhere at the stern. Curious to see what was going on, you followed the sound to find Mr. Ismay confronted by many passengers, most of them were women. At the sight of this, your eyes grew wide; what on bloody hell were they doing to him?

"Mr. Ismay, you are such a coward!"

"Yeah, you got to stay on this ship while others died!"

"Are you even part of the White Star Line-"

"W-Well, I… I don't know what you ladies are implying." Mr. Ismay sweatdropped.

"You, sir, are a big, fat jer-"

"_ENOUGH_!" The passengers stopped shouting their own insults to find you the one hollering at _them_. "LISTEN TO ME, YOU MAY CRITIZE HIM JUST BECAUSE HE MADE IT ALIVE BUT WHAT WOULD DO IF _HE_'_S_ YOUR HUSBAND OR SOME OTHER MEMBER IN THE FAMILY? HE JUST WANTED TO LIVE!"

At the sound of this, they grew silent, doing nothing but to back away a tad bit in case you started to yell again. Even Mr. Ismay was quite surprised that you of all the former passengers would defend him in such issues like this.

"That's what I thought…" Was all you could mutter out before walking away. To tell you the truth, you were not sure if Mr. Ismay should be insulted in a harsh matter just because he got into a lifeboat and escaped the sinking. I mean, it _looked_ cowardly and the other members of _Titanic_'_s _crew would possibly be feeling betrayed (do people's spirits still feel those sorts of things?) but then again, he was scared like everyone else and he wanted to live, be back with his family, etc… for now, you will spare him for a bit. Just in case.

Although now that you think of it, you remembered that yesterday during that service, you forgot to pay attention to the approximate or exact number of the passengers and crew survived and/or died during the sinking. Or even where exactly did _Titanic_ herself sink while traveling. If only those tragic thoughts would get out of your head… perhaps you should ask someone about this, especially with the number part.

Pacing around, you observed every passenger and/or crew member (of both ships) that you saw so far. So far, no one seemed to be the kind of person to encounter such fact and store it into their knowledge, which disappointed you slightly. Almost giving up, you were about to head for the decks again (yes, you were wondering around there for a long while since yesterday) when you saw Lithuania, Estonia, Latvia, and Poland huddling together, trying to make conversation while staying warm from the slightly-piercing cold.

"Man, I like, can't believe that Russian-brute totally made it alive after all; he's been like, making Finland on the verge of freaking out even before _Titanic_ totally crashed that iceberg!"

"I know, Feliks. H-He is quite scary…"

"W-W-Would h-he d-d-d-do the same to us?" (You could hear Latvia sobbing at this point)

"Raivis, that is impossible; we have been through tough times before we even met him; I am sure he is not that bad-"

"Um… will you all allow me to ask any of you a question?" The four countries paused their conversation and looked up at their direction as you came closer.

"Huh? Oh, all right, we do not mind." Lithuania replied. The others were quick to agree, nodding.

"Does any of you know the number of us passengers surviving or even the number of those who died when _Titanic_ sank?" You asked them right out in the open. The others in the deck gave you weird looks, as if you were completely mad enough to ask such devastating question. Even the Baltic Trio plus Poland looked at you a bit oddly before whispering to themselves.

"Uh… do you know how many?" Latvia asked his friends, confused.

"Like, I don't know!"

"Me neither…."

"Actually, I can tell you this in a simple, logical, yet hopefully a not-so-grief-stricken matter…" Estonia announced, clearing his throat. "From what I saw from everyone yesterday at the Boat Decks and other places, there are only 710 of us, including you and us countries, that survived."

_SEVEN-HUNDRED AND TEN_.

It did not feel that it was not that much, but somehow, it felt smaller somehow….. COMPLETELY SMALL. As if everyone in the world was about to shrink into the size of insects. Also, there were many women and some children on board here at _Carpathia _but so few men.

Now that you mentioned it, the men who _did_ make it were the ones working as part of the ship's crew. From the looks of it, there weren't many male passengers that made it. The countries didn't count though, since they would be less likely to be noticed by everyone else looking for them.

"And if that is not enough, 1514 people died."

_ONE-THOUSAND_, _FIVE-HUNDRED AND FOURTEEN_.

Was _that_ the number of those who died while _Titanic_ sank? Was Estonia saying it correctly or were you just imagining things? As he said the very number, you covered your ears with your hands, crouching down into a ball, and groaning while tears are starting to break from your resistance, about to stream into your face. Your body shook as the very bits of memory, each more horrifying than the last, flashed into your mind. Even the sight of England's face started to make you feel completely mental….

"[_first name_]? Are you ok?"

"H-Huh?" You looked up at Latvia's and the other's concerned eyes; you did not even notice that you nearly went completely mad yourself at Estonia's statement. "F-F-Forgive me; I was just terrified at the very thought… perhaps if I relax a little, I shall be fine." You gave off a small, quick bow at the others before heading off to wash up.

Trying your best to let the warm water wash away those thoughts (it was a bit of a fail though), you took a bath and sat there in the bathtub for a bit until the water grew lukewarm. Drying yourself up with a towel, you looked at a mirror to see if your eyes turned red from crying just as the others had. They were not, thank goodness, but your eyes widened at another shocking sight right at your reflection and yourself…

Your now-seemingly fragile-looking body and neck were covered in odd blotches and marks in red, purple, a tinge of green and yellow, and even a streak of blue, which were striking differences in your formerly-clear skin. Your lips still looked slightly pink and your hair looked a tad bit unruly (not as much as Denmark's though) somehow. Even the area between your legs still had a bit of that strange white substance sealed inside you, despite the bathwater.

"_Oh my god_… _that probably happened_ _from the- uh_, _things that England and I did_…" You blushed furiously at the very night inside the Renault. "_I cannot believe that my virginity would be taken away before the collision…. huh_?" Before you could look away from the mirror, however, you saw something dangling around your neck and it felt quite odd..

There was a necklace around your neck, hanging by a silver chain. A pink stone (you were not sure what it was, actually… but it looked like either a pink diamond or something quite softer) in the form of an English Rose with a golden center, with bits of the silver chain strands sprayed out from the bottom, expanding wide. It was nestled comfortably into your skin, from the nape of your neck to the peek of your cleavage. It looked beautiful.. oh wait a minute, perhaps the term 'beautiful' for the piece of jewelry that you're wearing would've suited not you, but more fitting for a first-class lady. Even the touch of it felt foreign.

"But how did it-" Then a glimpse of a flashback played; you now remembered at one point while you and England kissed before you ended up saving Denmark and getting on at Lifeboat 4, you felt his arms around your neck while feeling something cold at his touch. Then you heard him whispering something like, 'Wear this; I will eventually find you one day.' for some apparent reason before he left.

"_But wouldn_'_t that mean he is actually alive by now_, _trying to find me… wearing this_?" You thought to yourself, confused. Heck, you weren't even sure how that thing would help him! If he's truly alive right at this very moment, you would've seen him while at C_arpathia_. Or even hearing of his existence from _Californian_. But alas, no you did not and that sucked so badly. It would be possible that your theory would be right if countries can survive from the brink of death at any time of the day-

"HEY! FINISH YOUR TIME HERE ALREADY! I GOT TO TAKE _MEIN_ BATH BEFORE _MEIN BRUDER _TAKES VERY LONG IN HIS!"

Startled by a harsh knocking sound that was interrupting your thoughts, you quickly changed back into the same clothing you wore yesterday and headed out of the lavatory so that Germany, the country who was waiting for you, can take a bath now.

Later in the evening, as you were about to find an area to sleep for the night (last time, you chose to bunk at the saloon), you found Switzerland at the corner of the same room, still wrapping his body around with the plaid coat. You almost passed right by him when he suddenly grabbed your arm and placed the now-folded coat on your outstretched hand that he was clutching. He almost flushed into an embarrassed red, but then softened into a light pink once he realized that you were not escaping from his grip at the moment.

"[_first name_]? I need to ask you… even after what I did earlier, why did you save me from being frozen to death?" He asked quietly, almost looking away.

To his surprise though, you gave him a comforting, reassuring hug, causing him to blush more into that light pink colour. Running your hands on his hair, you just whispered, "Because that is my way of saying 'I forgive you'.".

**Wednesday. April. 17, 1912**

_**R.M.S Carpathia**_**, **_**Somewhere at the Atlantic Ocean**_

Last night was almost as dreadful as the other, but this time with many nightmares of _Titanic_ sinking. Every time you saw those dreams, you would try hard not to scream. But if you _do_ scream, you had to run over to the decks again to do it and you would have the sense of people looking at you now, you were in a cabin that was once used by a kind, elderly man who was letting you use the room for the nights until the ship lands in New York City. Even though there was only a simple bed in the place, you do not mind one bit, as long as it was comfortable. Some of _Carpathia's_ passengers would donate clothing to _Titanic_'_s_ survivors as well as toothbrushes and other necessities. Some even gave up their beds for them!

It was still hard to eat, drink, or think properly, though. But little by little, you felt enough strength to do at least a little bit of each. Besides, it's better to see America, Canada, and your parents as a healthy person than a sickly one (although you sort of do not care about either).

Despite the difficulties, you still got the strength inside. In order to keep your mind occupied, you also kept other countries company, helping Sweden to defend Finland while Russia was looking at him creepily (since he was ruling over the young Nordic), and tried to get to know the other passengers (from both ships _Titanic_ and _Carpathia_) better. You even had enough strength to look after the younger children and babies. As of so far, not only did you play with Douglas, but also helped to take care of four infants, Bertram and Millvina Dean as well as Michel and Edmond Navratil. It sounded tricky at first, but judging from the labour you endured a year ago back in London, it must've paid off.

You also learned that where Titanic sank was in an area west of America, northwest of Canada, north of Greenland, northeast of Iceland, England, and Ireland, and east of France, Spain, and Portugal (something that you, yet again, happened to learn from Estonia), all by land. If only the ship made to the city safely, the crew in better training, more people in the lifeboats, and the icebergs not floating in the Atlantic waters, none of this would've happened…

It was close to sunset and you were nibbling on a ham sandwich that one of Carpathia's crew gave you and sipping a cup of tea. After eating the rich and savory first-class cuisine from _Titanic_ for so long, it felt a tad bit unusual to eat normal food again, even though it had only been about a week. You were about to get up and ask for some more tea, for your cup was now empty, when you heard voices from the other side of the room.

"…You are kidding me. _That_'_s _what happened?"

"Damn right, I'm certain! Really, everyone else should think about saving others more.." You recognized the voice; it came from Mrs. Brown. Curious about the commotion, you headed towards the direction of the voice. Sure enough, you saw the American socialite chatting with a few passengers from both _Titanic _and _Carpathia_.

"Wait, wait, wait." You had to say before realizing that you interrupted the conversation. "Please forgive me for intrusion but what did you say was happening?"

Mrs. Brown stared at you curiously before realizing what were you talking about. "Oh, that, you say? Well, when the _Titanic_ sank, the man in charge of the lifeboat didn't wanna save the poor souls! So I gripped my oar, saying, "If you don't do what I say, I'll throw you overboard." and helped to save the people about to freeze to death.

From the sound of it, her situation sounded similar to yours when you saw Switzerland with his gun while floating at sea. In your opinion, however, she seemed to be brave than you were. Now that you thought about it, didn't saving Denmark and Switzerland from drowning counted? As well as helping Iceland and the others up from their watery graves?

But then again, _you_ were the one who didn't die for everyone else. The one who didn't smash the gate with an axe. The one who went to the lifeboats by command. The one who… left her true behind.

Being a brave, courageous hero was more confusing than you thought. And you weren't sure of yourself either.

**Thursday. April. 18, 1912**

_**R.M.S Carpathia**_**, **_**Somewhere at the Atlantic Ocean**_**, **_**New York City**_**, **_**New York**_**, **_**America**_

Unfortunately, you did not find the owners of the dime-store book, the wooden soldier, and the violin here at _Carpathia_. You did find the owner of the photograph and gave the movie camera back to Mr. Marvin though. Even though most of the film in there were still wet from the water, at least the scene in which you and England starred in was safe (according to him, he might try to get permission to have the entire film seen by everyone else by the time the ship lands).

It was the third day in the row in which the skies were stormy and the air was cold. While you were trying to stay warm at the saloon with the others, you thumbed through the pages of 'Peter Pan'. What surprised you though, was that you did _not_ expect to have so many things in your pockets and in the pages of the book.

The postcard and stationary from the first-class reading and writing room, the band's music sheets (apparently, the song was 'Nearer, My God, to Thee'; possibly the very last song before the sinking), a napkin from the dining saloon, your pocket watch tied with the lilac ribbon, and the third-class man's watch. For some reason, the watch did not work, as the hands stopped at 2:20 for some reason. It did not make sense to you _why_ at first, but judging from the watch and the music sheets together, they must've represented the last hours of _Titanic_.

By now, it was sometime after 8:00 PM, you kept looking up at the sky while standing at the deck, still thinking of things. Staring up there in a daze, you were surprised to see a tall, green yet almost bronze-coloured lady wearing a pointy crown and a tunic while she was carrying a flaming green torch on one hand and a stack of books cradled in her left arm. As you squinted, you realized what the lady really is now.

"_Oh my god… is that the Statue of Liberty_?" You thought to yourself as you gasped. "_Then this could mean-_"

"HERE WE ARE, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN; NEW YORK CITY. WE ARE NOW STOPPING IN PIER 54." A booming voice came from one of the crew somewhere in the ship.

There you go now, New York City. In the state of New York. In America's land; the country and your childhood friend. For a moment there, it felt like as though your citizenship as a British citizen was taken away and now you're not a Brit anymore, but starting to transform into an American. It felt quite odd, pray tell.

Everyone rushed over to the deck as well to look at the Statue of Liberty as well as the awaiting destination. You checked your pocket watch to find that it was 8:30 PM now, in the middle of a thunderstorm. Somehow, it matched the emotions of what everyone had gone through lately. By the time the ship steamed into the pier, you could see smaller boats surrounding it as well as the occasional bright flashes from cameras. There was also a tremendous crowd there waiting for others.

Before the gangways were about to be laid out, however, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned around to find that it was Sweden who was doing it.

"Ya sure th't you kn'w wh't you're doing?" Was all he said in his slightly rough Swedish accent.

You just nodded. "Yes, I am sure. Everything has been arranged." Although now that you think of it, you were not sure…

"Ve~ I've been looking all over for you! Come over here!" You heard another voice, this time from Italy, who was waving around a sheet of paper, making a 'come here' gesture. You had to lead away from the crowd of numb, tired passengers for a bit.

"What do you want, Italy?" You asked in a soft yet tired voice while rubbing one eye.

"Ve~ you looked more sad than the last time I saw you… I'm sorry that England did not make it." He now placed the paper on your right hand, putting you into curiosity. "So I thought that you might cheer up with this."

You unfolded the paper long enough to find the familiar White Star Line logo. Smoothing the paper out from the creases, you found yourself staring at an accurate, detailed sketch of a young girl and a first-class man at the bow of a ship as if they were flying together…

"That's you and England, ve… even if he is not here anymore, this may help you to not forget him again….."

"Italy, I…" Tears started to swell up, unsure of how to react exactly. All you did was to hug the picture, as the very memory of 'flying' was brought back to you. "_Grazie_." You choked out, using a little bit of Italian that you know. Italy gave you a quick hug before getting off the ship.

The sight of many people and countries soon grew chaotic as they would try to find one another. You were one of the last to get off, but you do not mind. Every time you passed by a reporter, photographer, or any other person who eagerly asked you if you've been on _Titanic_, you just either said 'Yes' or nodded; it felt easier that way for you.

It was hard to weave your way through the frantic crowds of people, but you managed somehow, ending up in a quiet street corner.

Now that no one was there, you would've been glad to have some space, but instead, you felt like you were going to panic. Admit it, you were in a strange city in a foreign land, with only clothes on you, a few pounds and shillings (unfortunately, British money won't work in America's land), and a few random possessions. Your parents were not there and neither was Canada or America. You wanted to go run off and try to find any of them but if you _do_ leave, what if you missed them? What if any of them did not even receive the letters (and that telegram) from _Titanic_? Still surrounded by overwhelming crowds of strangers, you decided to find a place to stay for the night so that you will focus more clearly as well as finding a way to find the ones looking for you.

It was terribly cold out and you sensed the rain coming, just like back in London. You struggled to stay warm in your father's navy blue coat as well as your mother's plaid one underneath. The skirt of your lilac dress didn't entirely cover up your legs well enough and your plain white gloves started to feel damp.

As you walked farther and farther away, you saw one woman with donated clothing asking you for any assistance, but you just said 'No thank you.' before passing by forward. At some point, you wondered if you would end up sleeping on the streets (you did that a few times whenever the trips to certain houses took a day or so… believe me, it was not a pleasant experience) but then again, people would think that you're homeless.

You finally found a deserted bench before sitting down for a bit, but then lied down as soon as no one noticed you there. The sounds of nearby horses, people, and automobiles somehow sounded quite soothing enough to make you sleep… you were like this for a while until you heard familiar voices.

"M-Maple… is someone on the bench over there?"

"I dunno, let me see… hey, I recognize her!"

Finding the two voices annoying now, you turned to the side.

"[_first name_]! [_first name_]!" Wake up, wake up!"

Finally giving up as you felt a hand on your shoulder, you shifted your position to find familiar blue and violet-blue eyes protected by eyeglasses looking directly at you. You were terrified at first, but then recognized the familiar faces…

"Matthew! Alfred! You… You two are finally here!" You cried out.

"I know, right? Mattie and I were worried sick! So were your parents!" America exclaimed while giving you a huge hug. Tears started to drip from your eyes while being safe in your arms as you felt the American lifting you up and onto his back.

"We got your letter and that telegram from earlier… but by the time Titanic sank, Alfred thought that you died with it." Canada said in a soft, slightly sad voice.

"I know…."

"But don't worry; the hero just rescued you! You ain't gonna worry anymore, [_first name_]." Was the last thing America said before you rested your head against his back and started to close your eyes again for a bit. You heard sounds of thunder and lightning but they sounded so far away now. You also felt raindrops falling, touching your already-cold skin. But none of it mattered at the moment.

You were finally safe, reunited with America and Canada, and by the time you three headed for your new home, with your parents as well.


	8. April 19, 1912

**Friday. April. 19, 1912**

_**New York City**_**, **_**New York**_**, **_**America**_

"Hey [_first name_], you done yet? C'mon, I wanna see it~!"

"Just give me a minute! Bloody hell, America…."

The reunion with you and your parents together later on last night was crazy, teary, yet joyful at the same time. According to America, they saw your name on the list of survivors arriving from _Titanic_'_s_ wreck, but they did not believe it themselves until you _actually_ came. Besides, they had to skip a few days of work _just _so that they could see you coming. Part of you wished that you could tell them about everything from what happened to London after they left, the voyage on _Titanic_, to the sinking…. but you were too tired to say anything in a full conversation. Not even a complete sentence. After eating a quick dinner and some washing up, you went to bed earlier than you usually did.

Part of you were sad because of the after-effects from the collision. But then again, it is important to focus on your new life. It also felt weird, now that you're an American citizen, not a British one. Perhaps it was the change of atmosphere, the different land, or the slightly foreign customs. Whatever it was, you were not completely sure. But you could not think it out even while you were lying down on the bed, for you fell asleep before your head even hit the pillow.

So now for the first-half of the morning, America (apparently, he and Canada were staying for a few nights, as your parents told you) had decided, for some apparent reason, to play dress-up on you, as if you were a life-sized porcelain doll. It took you a while to figure out why, but then you remembered from one of your parents' last letters back in London, mentioning something about getting some new clothing for you when you meet them in New York City (thank goodness for that, for most of your original clothing, including the ones England gave you, ended up at the bottom of the sea…).

Right now, he made you try on one of the new dresses, a sky-blue sailor one with a dropped waist and white cuffs, skirt trim, and neckline. It even included a matching sailor's cap. Apparently, it used to belong to a first-class girl about your age, but grew too big for it (your parents bought for a good price, too). You kept blushing in front of your American friend as you stepped out from the lavatory and showed the new outfit to him.

"Awww~ you look so adorable! And a perfect fit, too!" He cooed out, his ocean-blue eyes staring at your cuteness.

"Y-You really think so?" You stuttered; sure, America would call you 'swell', 'all right', and things like that ever since you were a younger child, but 'adorable'? Well, that was… quite new.

"Yeah! Maybe enough to make the hero shine brighter! Hahahaha!" You rolled your eyes; typical America with his enormous heroic-sounding ego, but then again, he's your friend after all.

"AMERICA! WE'D BETTER GO OR WE'LL BE LATE, EH!" You heard Canada's voice from the doorway.

"Late? For… darn it! World Meeting today! I ain't gonna be late for it!"

"World Meeting…?" You were confused at first, but then remembered from earlier about the reason why England was visiting America, other than just seeing him. "_Oh I remember now_; _there_'_s supposed to be a World Meeting a few days after Titanic_'_s SUPPOSED to arrive…._"

"I promised Mattie that I won't be late this time; besides, he gets strict at me for it." America rolled his eyes.

"…..You'd better not humiliate yourself there; remember what you wrote last time from earlier's letter?" You informed him.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. But since _Titanic_ sank, it's giving everyone else a hard time so…. I'm just gonna try to be a bit more serious for once. Also, I need to ask the United States Senate if anyone can conduct hearings to investigate the sinking… wait, I also just remembered that Hong Kong might take England's place for this since that Brit ain't.. making it." He explained, quickly putting on his coat and hat.

"Oh…. in that case, will you use this for the World Meeting?" You asked innocently, holding out a folded piece of paper. But this was no ordinary piece of paper; this was actually one of the sheets of vellum stationary that you saved from the ship. Since you saved three, you used one to write a note so that America can at least get assistance for what to expect for the near future. This was what you wrote in:

**I hereby want to state that to prevent any ship in the world sinking in a tragic way **_**Titanic**_** had, I highly suggest that all passenger ships should carry enough lifeboats for EVERYONE on board, regular lifeboat drills must be held, there should be a twenty-four hour radio watch, that there must be luxury, speed, AND safety on the interior and exterior, and there should be some sort of an organization to help prevent any more collisions to the bottom of the ocean in the near future. Use this knowledge wisely.**

**~[**_**full name **_**(**_**first and last name**_**)]**

When America read over the contents of your note quickly, he had a serious determination in his eyes; it seemed as if he agreed with your opinion. Besides, as you mentioned earlier, you knew a lot more than one would think.

"Ok! I'm so going to!" He finally agreed, giving off his heroic-looking smile. You started to grin.

"Anyway, gotta run! See ya later!" Was all he called out to you before you left. You had even heard the phrase 'I'M THE HERO~!' somewhere outside.

With America and Canada gone for their World Meetings and your parents at work (they told you that they now have to catch up from the few days they missed but they promised that they will be back in the evening), you were now the only one left in the house… er, building, whatever.

Anyways, you did not have anything to do at the moment yet you wished to explore around the city more. So, quickly putting on a coat, your stockings, and button-boots, you walked in every street nearby in the neighbourhood, trying to drink in the surroundings. Really, New York City sometimes reminded you of London, but the differences? 1. London felt smaller, 2. There's more traffic here at the city, and 3. At least there's less rain in New York City, compared to London, 4. New York City's… American, obviously. The buildings looked higher and the streets were busier than ever.

The morning passed and the cloudy afternoon came as you ended up in Pier 54, the very place where _Carpathia_ docked yesterday. As you looked at the open ocean stretched right out in the open, you wondered about what would happen to _Titanic_'_s_ survivors now.

From what you heard, some openly told others about the sinking while others did not tell anybody, even _threatening_ them to fight if they mentioned it (in fact, you cannot attend school again at this moment because of this, hopefully when things get settled down, you will by the beginning or middle of May). Would they change or would they stay the same? Would they treat the other classes as if they're equal or not? Would they…

You sighed, thinking of all this was too difficult for you yet again. All you hoped for now was that perhaps sometime soon, you will be happy again.

On the way home, you happened to see a few dandelions growing at the edge of an abandoned building. One happened to have its puffball of dandelion seeds. You picked it and you blew on the soft white head.

"I wish…." Somehow, England was the first thing to come out of your head. Part of you wished that you could figure out if he's dead or not…

"I wish that I can tell if England's dead or alive after _Titanic_ sank." You muttered at the dandelion seeds before blowing them away. Before continuing to walk forward, you saw the dandelion seeds gently floating away, finding their own way by instinct and by the currents of the city air…


	9. April 20, 1912

**Eugene: **Ok…. this is the last chapter. I mean, despite what I've been through from earlier (long waits, the hater, etc…), I actually had fun writing this. ^^ I also got some support from friends, old and new. Besides, without them, I would've never got through this. But just in case of haters yet again, I edited some stuff so that people won't get the wrong idea. Anyway~ thank you for making this (insanely long yet detailed) reader-insert awesome!. ONWARD WITH CHAPPIE 9! THE FINAL CHAPTER…. OR IS IT~? I will explain on the next 'chapter'.

**Saturday. April. 20, 1912**

_**New York City**_**, **_**New York**_**, **_**America**_

"_Hey…. isn_'_t this the Grand Staircase_?"

_You were inside Titanic_, _still in her luxurious conditions even after she ended up in the bottom of the ocean. The ship was still sailing but it felt more like flying_, _something like the Flying Dutchman_'_s_ _ghostly ship. The floors were clean_, _everything in the room shined_, _the cherub statue gleamed while still holding its shining light_, _and you could see the glass dome overhead shining the natural light _(_moonlight_, _sunlight_?) _while it sparkled_, _iridescent yet reflective at the same time. _

_Every passengers and crew were all there_, _even the ones who had died earlier that somehow came back here alive. You recognized most of the familiar faces_, _with delighted looks_, _smiles_, _and a comforting feel in the air of their presence. You could see Captain Smith tipping his hat towards you_, _Officer Lowe giving you a thumbs-up_, _Denmark and Prussia mouthing out _'_Good luck_', _the entire band plus Austria playing a soft yet melodic tune_, _Switzerland giving you a modest nod_, _a few second and third-class people softly clapping_, _and even saw America_, _Canada_, _and your parents helping you up the stairs…._

_There were so many people_, _all in one room. The ones you know and the ones you do not meet yet_, _the ones alive or dead earlier_, _all in different classes and statuses…. they were all here. As if they were anticipating for something… but what_?

_One difference compared to when you were at the ship before the collision was the dress you were now wearing_, _which was completely different. You wore a lace dress_, _the crocheted designs overlapping your bare skin_, _with a champagne-gold sleeveless top underneath and a sheer skirt that looked like an inverted calla lily. Your hair was arranged differently as well_, _for it was set into a high yet loose and elegant bun with the small elaborate curls framing your face_, _the ornamental hairpins dotting the strands like stars. Even your shoes were different_, _for they were in a cream colour with a small heal._

_As you approached the top connecting the upper two stairs_, _you could see a familiar someone looking at the carved clock for the time. You had to squint to examine closely but before you even started to_, _he turned around to face you and smiled_, _making you recognizing the person immediately._

_Arthur Kirkland_… _or in your case_, _England._

"_Hello_, _love._" _He greeted_, _reaching for your hand._

_You were unsure of what to say_; _even though it was about five days after Titanic sank and that you had last seen him_, _but it felt more like many years too hard to count. Managing to speak_, _you shyly replied _"_Hello_"_ back. Now facing him at the top of the stairway_, _you found yourself drowning into his green-eyed gaze._

"[_first name_]? _There is… something that I quite wanted to do for some time earlier here on this ship.. but I_'_d never seem to find the time to do so until now…_" _Then to your surprise_, _he knelt down on one knee_, _possibly his right one_, _to reveal a small velvet box from his pocket and inside contained a ring with a silver band with a pink diamond on the center and tiny diamonds and pearls framing the jewel itself…_

"_My love_, _marry me_, _will you_?" _He asked in a soft yet honest voice._

_NOW you felt speechless. No one ever thought of marrying you one day… especially at a very young age like at this moment. And you had never thought that countries could actually be in love with other _'_mortals_' _and even marry them so that they would be together forever…_

"_England…. I.. I…._" _Not caring if you said his true name right in front of everybody_, _you tried to find the proper word or sentence to say._

"_YES_!" _Was the only word that you finally decided. Launching him into a huge embrace_, _England struggled to stay upright at first but managed to do so as he embraced you back. At the bottom of the Grand Staircase_, _you heard everyone down there cheering._

_As you felt him sliding the elegant ring on the third finger of your left hand_, _you tiptoed a bit and went closer as a request for a kiss. He eagerly accepted it as the light from the glass dome shone the light brighter and the people cheered once more_, _louder this time. The noise felt deafening though yet you could only see the blinding white abyss and you even heard a whisper saying _"_I love you…_"

"BLOODY HELL!"

Yes, it was all a dream. No, it was _not _real in there. But it certainly felt like it…

You were sitting up from the bed, hoping that you didn't wake up anybody. That fact was half-true, for your parents had to work for half the day today (from morning to mid-afternoon) while American and Canada were still sleeping in the spare room. You panted hard as you tried to regain oxygen, feeling sweat dripping downwards on your skin. Your heart kept beating hard and you were blushing.

"_Oh my god… that is absolutely the first time I had ever dreamed of something… like this._" You thought to yourself wildly. That statement alone brought you to one question: Did you miss England _that _badly?

"I… _come on_, _just say something already_!" Even if you cannot bring the answer out from your mouth, you knew how to reply to your question: You love him and you miss him that badly. And now that you had mentioned it, it made your heart hurt with pain…

Unbuttoning your nightgown to reveal the English Rose necklace, you unclasped it to watch the pink flower gleam oddly in the arising morning light. You were not sure if England would be alive or not… but if he is, then how is _this_ even going to help him? You sighed, unsure of the answer. But then all of a sudden, something hit you right in the open.

Getting up to reach for your 'Peter Pan' book, you flipped through the pages to reveal another thing pressed in there; a couple petals loose from the English Roses that mysterious secret admirer sent were fully pressed. You were keeping them in there, in case you would have the chance of finding out who was the sender. But then as the ship sank, you almost never found who it was…

Examining the rose and the necklace, you remembered that England was the one who put on the necklace on you yet while you ended up with the roses from someone else. Then you realized that no other country or any other passenger would've known you that well or even know that the English Rose is actually the national flower of-

"Wait a second, _he_ was the one who sent the roses, too? But why would he-" You cannot think of the reason why yet again. If he was the one that had sent both, then… could it mean that he was trying to _court_ you or something?

"Ugh.. I better think about this later…." You groaned before grabbing a change of clothes and heading off to wash up. You didn't realize that as you were heading to the bathroom, your necklace glowed with a golden tinge, as if it was sprinkled with the magic of the fey..

Your parents still had to work that day but they will have a half-day tomorrow so that they will show you some others things in New York City. In the meantime, you, America, and Canada had to deliver the violin, the dime-store book, the wooden soldier, the watch, the music sheets, the napkin, your postcard and the remaining blank two pieces of vellum stationary to some of the members in America's government; while they were currently trying to search for anything or finding any dead bodies left in _Titanic_'_s _spot, America had mentioned about some of the stuff that you found and/or saved in your possession. Since the lifeboats and life belts were the only things that were left that time, they plan to keep the things for safekeeping in memory of the disaster (thank goodness you do not have to give up Italy's drawing, the telegram, and America's own drawing of the ship you drew with Mr. Andrew's assistance).

After that was over with, the three of you encountered a group of second-class kids, approximately your age, playing with tops on the sidewalk. For the rest of the morning and all the way until very late in the afternoon, you played games that involved how long can one top spin compared to the other. Finding inspiration, you came up with a game; the way it works was that the tops were spun at the same time, clashing against each other as one top spins the longest while the others cannot spin any longer due to the victor's wrath.

"Go! Go! Go! Just a few more seconds…" You chanted, gritting your teeth as you watched the top that you were using tried hard to spin longer. The remaining 'opponent' was a young boy about one or two years younger than you and his own top may be the one standing.. until your top gave out enough energy to tilt the other's edge in an angle, hitting the ground and stopping its track. That meant one thing; you won.

"YES! I win! I win!" You cheered, fist-pumping in the air. America gave you a high-five while Canada meekly smiled.

"I can't believe I lost like that…. good game, though." The boy said before shaking your hand briefly. America was about to have his turn when you saw three girls running from the corner of a street to the area where the game was still going on.

"Hey! I think someone's around here, tryin' to scare us!" The girl with sweet-looking curls exclaimed.

"Wait, who was?" One of the boys in the group, the one with a brown cap, had asked.

"I don't know! But whoever he was, he looked scary!" The other two girls (one with braids and another with a white hair ribbon) said at once.

"The hero will check where that guy is! Have no fear!" America was about to head to the street corner when Canada suddenly stopped him by grabbing his arm.

"A-Alfred.. I don't think that is a good idea…." Canada tried to reason.

"Then what I am gonna-"

"_I will do it then._" You announced, standing up and putting on your best-looking brave expression. Besides, perhaps some heroes do need backup that much.

"Aw, c'mon! You can't make it there alone!" Was all America could say before earning a shove from Canada. "…just make it quick, [_first name_]." He revised.

"Of course." With a dash, you headed for the dark, abandoned corner. Nothing was there except for a dustbin, a few weedy-looking dandelions without their seeds growing at the edge, and a door with a faded brass doorknob on one of the brick walls enclosing the pitch-black space.

"Ah…. see, there is absolutely nothing there- OH MY GOD!" Something had just clasped onto your lilac-shrouded shoulder, causing you to shriek! Shoving it away with a jerk on the arm, you started to run, despite the fact that you had nowhere else to run in the first place. Right, left, right… turn to left again….

Finding yourself in _another_ corner of the street, you had to stop running so that you can catch your breath. It was not as bad compared to last time but… it was still terrifying. It was less dark but it was more quiet this time. There were no other sounds heading your way, not even the sounds of horses, carriages, or automobiles from farther away, which made it easier for you to think.

At first, you relaxed, but then felt something pushing you, causing you to fall back-first with a hint of pain. Watching the stranger with wide eyes, you saw green eyes glazing towards you, as if he was planning something quite odd…

"_Bloody hell_! _If that person is planning to beat up_, _kill me_, _or- whatever it was by force_, _I am too young to suffer after what I have been through during Titanic_'_s sinking_!" You tried to wriggle away like a fish, but the stranger just held your wrists by the side in a firm grip, making your escape impossible. And for the love of the Queen, you can't even do anything about it!

Closing your eyes shut, you muttered out a 'Good bye, cruel world. I'll miss you.' and tried to yell out a 'HELP ME!' when all of a sudden, you felt lips crashing into yours, strangely deep with some sort of… _passion_ in it? And come to think of it, the contours and the taste of it felt unusually familiar..

"[_first name_]?" The voice sounded familiar now, too, which made you think that you were perhaps mad… "[_first name_], love, I…" And then it happened. As if by cue, a glint of sunlight from the now-approaching sunset lit up the street corner, revealing the person right on top on you, who turned out to be….

"_I… I cannot believe it_!" You realized in shock.

_England… he_'_s alive_!

"Y-Y-You're…" Your voice started to shake with pure realization, joy, and relief at the start, but then did not say anything else as soon as you pulled him closer, kissing him as much as you could. "_You_'_re alive_- I thought that- you- drowned- from the- sinking-" You tried to say between each kiss.

Finally making an attempt to pull away, only to sit up and to hold you close, he said, "I know, I thought that I would suffer myself, but then a passenger found me holding onto a deck chair and tried to help me recover at a ship called _Californian_.."

Aha, so your theory was somehow right! You knew it! England _did_ make it back alive.. but he was recovering at the ship that came after _Carpathia_ headed off to New York City… how did he managed to find you was something you had to understand.

Then England noticed the English Rose necklace that you were still wearing around your neck. Smiling fondly at it, he gave a small kiss at it before looking at you to say, "But right now, I am glad to find you again.". You two were about to kiss again when-

"Hey [_first name_]! What's going on- here…." America and Canada just came right out of the open (the kids must've went home earlier or perhaps they were somewhere farther away), relieved that you were ok, but then their eyes widened in shock, disbelief, and relief at the sight of England.

"IGGY~!" America was the first to react, rushing straight towards England, glomping him to the ground while the Brit struggled to be upright. You giggled at the sight of this. "IGGY, I MISSED YOU SO~ BADLY! I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!" He cried out while hugging him without any move to stop.

"Ugh, Alfred F. Jones, didn't I told you that-" England was about to say something like 'you're still a twat-faced git' or something like that when he saw the looks on yours and Canada's face. Plus, America _does_ truly miss him ever since the sinking… He sighed before finishing with, "I miss you, too, idiot." and giving him a small hug back before standing up immediately.

"W-We're just glad that you're alive after all, eh?" Canada just said while helping his former charge up, also giving him a small squeeze.

"Yeah…"

"[_first name_], ALFRED, MATTHEW! EVENING MEAL!" You heard your mother calling out; she and your father must've arrived from work and they made dinner already.

"Ah, bullocks, I haven't got a place to stay and my luggage is still at the bottom of the sea…" England murmured to himself at the mention of the evening meal.

"Then why don't you come stay at my new place for a few nights? My parents can help you get through the meeting that you had missed and probably even help you get back to your own land later…" You suggested.

"Yeah, Artie, it ain't all fun and games without you around." America added before smirking. Canada just rolled his eyes at his brother's statement.

"….Well, alright. Perhaps that is a better idea.." He felt reluctant at first, but eventually agreed.

Relieved at the fact that he would be more comfortable settling with your family while he had to settle some things, you dashed off before yelling back to England, "Splendid! Follow me, then, chaps!". Somewhere behind you, you heard your lover muttering 'Bloody hell, she's fast! At least she is not tripping…'.

The evening passed and it went pretty well. America started a pillow fight at the end though, causing England and Canada to be startled whenever a pillow would be flung at them. You were the only one who can last against him, even though he won at the end. Right now, your parents had made England sleep in the room you were sleeping, which made America tease the Brit all the way. He looked flustered every time he mentioned it. You do not mind the sudden change though…

"[_first name_]? You're not sleeping even though it is past midnight already…"

England gestured to the pocket watch near your bed, which said 12:30 AM. You were, of course, surprised. "_That late already_? _Geez…._" But instead of snuggling on the covers of your bed, you just stared off space. After the pillow fight, you were thinking about _Titanic_'_s _sinking yet again, your questions still unanswered.

"Are you feeling alright?" He tried to make you focus at him, since you were in your train of thought again. At the sound of this, he softly gripped your hand, causing you to look at him.

"…Forgive me, but it's just that…." A sigh came out from your lips. "something that I do not get from when Titanic sank was that why did most people die with or leave behind the ones they love.. it just does not feel right! Everyone else should've lived-" Your voice started to shake just thinking about it…..

All of a sudden, you felt yourself turned around and ended up with your back pressed against the bed, almost forcing out a yelp of surprise. Jade-green eyes became focused on yours. This sudden gesture of movement made you gulp, reminding you of what happened inside the Renault before the collision with the iceberg.

"[_first name_], listen to me very closely this time; everyone in the world may end up losing their own lives at one point or another.." At one point, you heard England mutter out 'except of course, me and the other countries' before continuing his statement. "but that does _not_ mean that they should shed their tears for eternity once a person fades away."

You were confused at this, finding what he said difficult to understand. "What do you mean?"

He sighed and rubbed his temples a little harder, not wanting you to feel too much grief again like last time. "The important thing is," He started to poke at the area of your heart. "a person can be still remembered here, in the other's own heart even after one dies and the other lives. The heart must go on even if a part of your life is missing. The lost souls would be more at ease if you move on in life."

"Really?"

"Yes, love, I am being honest."

You bit your lip slightly at those words; remembering from what happened after England left you before the ship officially sank, you _did _manage to bring yourself to sanity as you saved Denmark, rescued Iceland and Switzerland, and helped the remaining passengers to safety. Even after a couple days of the sinking, somehow, you did manage to live on after all; you just didn't know it (and the fact that England may be right about 'the hero' part; in some ways, you're the 'hero' while other times, you are just yourself, despite giving off a weak proof of bravery).

Somehow, the words reassure you now, putting your thoughts into ease. You were about to say 'Thank you' or something quite like that when he silenced you by placing a finger on your lips.

"Ah-ah-ah, not so fast. Not until you say the words." England just said, tutting in a sarcastic matter.

You started grit your teeth in irritation. "What words?"

"Say it. Say the following 'My heart will go on, even if my love is not here with me.'." Was all he commanded.

…Alright, now that felt a tad bit embarrassing. Especially right in front of him. But if saying it might be the only way to save yourself from possible depression afterwards, so be it. "M-My heart will go on, uh… even if my love is n-n-not here with me?" You tried to say, uncertain of if you said it right. It did lessen most of your tension though, meaning that at least _saying_ it helped. To ensure that he heard you clearly, you had to say it a few more times in a louder voice.

After a few minutes of silence, his expression more relaxed and relieved. "Much better, [_first name_]. Now come on, you must sleep." He was about to pull you close and tuck you in when you stopped him by gripping his arm. He stared at you oddly.

"Oh yeah? Make me." A playful smirk came from your lips. Not catching your hint, England's eyes widened.

"W-What is that supposed to mean?" Was all he could sputter out.

Realizing that he did not understand of what you actually meant, you gave off a small frown, but then whispered into his ear while your voice dropped to an octave lower. "I meant to say 'Will you kiss me, please? I promise to go to sleep right away.'."

Finally understanding the meaning, he smirked back and said, "As you wish, Miss [_last name_]." before pulling you into a kiss you craved for yet again. Even if it took him a tad bit longer than he expected, you eventually started to fall asleep with him. You were just glad that despite the consequences that you suffered from the last year until the last few days, at least you have a new home, your dear parents, and your childhood friend right here with you at the same time. And of course, England will still be with you in the morning. The thought made you smile a bit as you closed your eyes.

Behind the slightly-closed door, America snapped a photo of the two of you sleeping together with his camera as he tried his best not to giggle. Canada sweatdropped a little, but America just smiled and said, "They're so cute together, even after _Titanic_ sank, at least love ain't dying." before the two North American countries tiptoed off to the spare room and slept as well.

**Eugene: **And~ THE. STORY. IS. DONE. *phew* However, the story _contents_ are not done. The last 'chapter' will come soon, just wait for it.


	10. TITANIC NOTE 1

**Eugene: **Even if it's about 100+ more years later after _Titanic_ sank, somehow her sinking still haunts and intrigue us at the same time. Sometimes, we would ask ourselves "Dude, how the hell can an 'unsinkable ship' sink during a maiden voyage?" or something like that, but then again, if Titanic didn't end up in her watery grave, boat safety wouldn't exist, there wouldn't be any _Titanic_-related stuff in the media, and of course, many other ships would've end up crashing in icebergs while heading towards underwater and making the ocean floor crowded.

**America: **You're kidding me… right?

**Eugene: **No, not really. *shakes head* At the same time, however, maybe all of the passengers would've lived and _Titanic_ would've existed by now. While this is _actually _sort of an "Author's Note" chapter, however, I will set at least a few things straight. You know how I said that some of the things here in the story are accurate? Well, one thing accurate is that most of the people I put here are _ACTUAL PEOPLE IN TITANIC_. I'll prove it here. The stars besides the names were the ones who survived from the sinking and 2 stars for the ones who lived _WHILE Titanic _sank, while the ones without the stars… are the ones who didn't make it or the ones who died before 1912. The star with the question mark and brackets mean that it's uncertain if that person's dead or alive. Here's the list of who's in this book that were actually on _Titanic_ (look up one of them if you didn't believe me):

***~The People (as well as a Few Exceptions who were [not]) Sailing in **_**R.M.S Titanic**_** and Mentioned in this Story are the Following Here~***

**Elisabeth Walton Robert (née McMillan)* - First-class passenger**

**Georgette Alexandra Madill* - First-class passenger**

**Elizabeth Walton Allen* - First-class passenger**

**Thomas Andrews - Shipbuilder and designer of **_**Titanic**_

**Thomas W. McCawley - Gymnasium Steward**

**Commander/Captain Edward John ("E.J.") Smith - Captain of **_**Titanic**_

**Hugh Walter McElroy - Chief Purser**

**Dr. William Francis Norman O'Loughlin - Surgeon and ship's doctor**

**Colonel John Jacob Astor IV - First-class passenger and millionaire (the richest man on **_**Titanic**_**)**

**Madeleine Talmage Astor (née Force)* - First-class passenger and Colonel Astor's second wife**

**Margaret Brown (née Tobin)* - First-class passenger, millionaire, and women's rights activist (later known as "The Unsinkable Molly Brown" after death)**

**Kitty - Colonel Astor's and Madeleine's Airedale terrier (dog)**

**Daniel Warner Marvin* - First-class passenger (the one with the wooden movie camera)**

**Dorothy Winifred Gibson* - First-class passenger and American silent film actress, singer, and model (later became the star of the silent film "Saved from the **_**Titanic**_**", the first of many films about the ship and last of the films she acted)**

**Frederick Fleet* - Lookout**

**Reginald Robinson Lee* - Lookout**

**Joseph Bruce Ismay* - White Star Line's Managing Director and son of Thomas Henry Ismay, White Star Line's owner**

**W. Theodore Brailey - Pianist of **_**Titanic**_**'**_**s**_** orchestra**

**Roger Marie Bricoux - Cellist of **_**Titanic**_**'**_**s**_** orchestra**

**Percy Cornelius Taylor - Cellist of **_**Titanic**_**'**_**s**_** orchestra**

**John Wesley Woodward - Cellist of **_**Titanic**_**'**_**s**_** orchestra**

**John Law Hume ("Jock") - Violinist of **_**Titanic**_**'**_**s**_** orchestra**

**Georges Alexandre Krins - Violinist of **_**Titanic**_**'**_**s**_** orchestra**

**John Frederick Preston Clarke - Bassist of **_**Titanic**_**'**_**s**_** orchestra**

**Wallace Henry Hartley - Bandleader of **_**Titanic**_**'**_**s**_** orchestra**

**Walter John Perkis* - Quartermaster and the one in charge of Lifeboat 4**

**Sub-Lieutenant Harold Godfrey Lowe* - Fifth Officer and the one in charge of Lifeboat 14**

**Captain Arthur Henry Rostron** - Captain of **_**R.M.S Carpathia**_

**Robert Douglas Spedden ("Douglas")* - First-class passenger and owner of Polar**

**Polar* - Douglas' stuffed polar bear**

**Bertram (Jr.) Vere Dean* - Third-class passenger and Millvina's older brother**

**Elizabeth Gladys Millvina Dean ("Millvina")* - Third-class passenger and Bertram's little sister (the youngest passenger on **_**Titanic**_** and later on became the last survivor to die)**

**Michel (Jr.) Marcel Navratil* - Second-class passenger and Edmond's older brother (later known as one of the "**_**Titanic**_** orphans")**

**Edmond Roger Navratil* - Second-class passenger and Michel's little brother (later known as one of the "**_**Titanic **_**orphans")**

**Eugene: **And here are the few people in the story without the names that aren't fully mentioned until now (in this case, the brackets indicated of about the person or what did he/she did in the story):

***~The Ones who Sailed on **_**Titanic**_** that were not Fully Mentioned are the Following that are Mentioned here~***

**Lewis Carrol (Charles Lutwidge Dodgson) - British author, mathematician, Anglican cleric and deacon, logician, artist, and photographer (the author of "The Adventures of Alice in Wonderland"/"Alice in Wonderland")**

**Charles Dickens (Charles John Huffam Dickens) - British writer and social critic (the author of "Oliver Twist")**

**J. M. Barrie (Sir James Matthew Barrie)** - Scottish novelist and playwright (the author of "Peter Pan")**

**John Bourke - Third-class passenger (the Irish immigrant at the third-class party; the one who suggested the dancing)**

**Morgan Robertson (Morgan Andrew Robertson)** - American author and self-proclaimed inventor of the periscope (the author of "Futility"/"Wreck of the _Titan_)**

**Ruth Taussig* - First-class passenger (one of the females who attempted to kiss England at the Grand Staircase)**

**Harold Sydney Bride* - Assistant Telegraphist (one of the two Marconi officers sending the telegrams)**

**John George Phillips ("Jack") - Telegraphist (one of the two Marconi officers sending the telegrams)**

**Father Thomas Roussel Davids Byles - Second-class passenger and British Catholic priest (the one trying to comfort the Christians during the sinking, reciting Revelation 21:4)**

**Lieutenant William McMaster Murdoch ("Will") - First Officer (the one taking the wheel by the time the iceberg came and the one who probably shot 2 passengers by accident due to panic)**

**Emily (Sr.) Maria Ryerson (née Borie)* - First-class passenger (the mother with thirteen year old son, Jack, as well as two other children in young adult years)**

**John Borie Ryerson ("Jack")* - First-class passenger and son of Emily (Sr.) Ryerson (the one who almost didn't make it to Lifeboat 4 due to age)**

**Isidor Straus - First-class passenger, co-owner of Macy's (along with his brother, Nathan), and husband of Ida (the one possibly holding each other in a bed together with Ida)**

**Rosalie Ida Straus (née Blun) ("Ida") - First-class passenger and second wife of Isidor Straus (part of the old couple possibly holding each other in a bed together with Isidor)**

There's 2 characters from James Cameron's movie "Titanic" used as side characters for this story:

***~The Fictional Passengers of **_**Titanic **_**used as Side Characters in this Story~***

**Rose DeWitt Bukater (*?) - First-class passenger (part of the couple last seen on **_**Titanic**_** before she sank)**

**Jack Dawson (*?) - Third-class passenger (part of the couple last seen on **_**Titanic**_** before she sank)**

And if you see the reporters from part 2 of the omake, they're mentioned here. Oh, and did I mention that they're actually based on _real _people involved with "Titanic"? The bold italics indicate stuff from the _real _person, along with the words "INSPIRED BY" in capitals:

***~Inspired by People from Real Life~***

**Mr. Cameron** - News reporter INSPIRED BY James Cameron (born James Francis Cameron) - Canadian film director, film producer, editor, screenwriter, environmentalist, deep-sea explorer, and visual artist; the one who written, directed, edited, and produced "Titanic" (did you know that he was cameo as one of the praying men in the movie?)**

**Mrs. Dion** - News reporter INSPIRED BY Celine Dion (born Céline Marie Claudette Dion) - Canadian singer, songwriter, composer, and actress; the one who sang and recorded the song "My Heart Will Go On", the main theme song for James Cameron's "Titanic" (apparently, that song is her biggest hit so far and is sometimes referred to as "the Titanic song")**

**Eugene: **…Wow, that's awfully long. ._. Anyway, when you see the names here, please pay respect to them and the others who died and survived the sinking (which is one of the purposes of writing this).


	11. OMAKE CHAPTER PART 1: May 15, 1912

**Wednesday. May. 15, 1912**

_**New York City**_**, **_**New York**_**, **_**America**_

It had been one month after _Titanic_ had her collision with the iceberg and sank. And according to yourself, it had been about one month _and _a few days since you met England and left your beloved home country (excuse me, as of land) to reunite with America and your parents. As of now… well, it was hard to say, really. Even though you were living in America's land for almost (yet again) a month now, you cannot help but to feel… out of place somehow. Perhaps it was the change of location and citizenship… yes, that must be it. At least, being around with England made it somewhat easier, despite the fact that he will go back to his own land in a couple days from now.

Right now, you were at school (About time, too! It felt like forever!), trying your best to focus on your lessons as the teacher (you cannot remember her name at the moment though) wrote the last few words on the chalkboard. Writing as fast as you can while maintaining neat printing, you looked out at the closest window near you as you silently counted down the minutes and seconds until the entire school day was over (sure, you pretty much missed attending school after an year, but it still felt tiring…).

Finally, almost of the students rushed out of the door, meeting up with their parents or walking home. However, today, you were one of those who's parents and/or guardian-figure.. person did not show up yet. As the remaining students left, one by one. That left only you, a few classmates, and the teacher, who was just about to leave herself.

"Are you simply going to wait here for so long?" The teacher raised her eyebrow suspiciously.

"….I'm not sure; I have not thought about it-" But she was already out of the door before you could even finish your sentence. You sighed, drumming your fingers on the surface of the wooden desk.

"[_first name_]! [_first name_]! We want to talk to you!"

Snapping out of your reverie, you heard the sounds of your fellow classmates. Yet again, you were unsure of their names (as you were just getting used to the school) but the ones in front of you were these three girls wearing cotton dresses of blue, brown, and white while wearing hair ribbons.

"You… you want to talk to me?" You questioned, gesturing to yourself. The girls nodded. "What is it?"

"[_first name_], is it true that you were courted by this British gentleman everyone's talking about?" The first girl with the white dress, asked curiously while twirling a strand of hair in front of her face.

That question almost made you gag in shock and you felt speechless. "…"

"I told you that she won't answer! You said it at the wrong time!" The girl with the plain brown dress said as she nudged the other's chest with her elbow, who in turn ended up kicked by the one wearing the blue dress and matching hair ribbons. The quarrel went on for a while you sweat dropped at that very sight; their fight reminded you of how Iceland, Denmark, Prussia, and Switzerland trying to win for your arrival back at _Titanic_.

"Hey, hey, hey! Please stop fighting! I…" You sighed, realizing that whoever told them about your relationship with England may end up doomed. Literally. "Look, it's hard to explain but if you want the answer, you will have to find him yourself. If I end up with him by now, you three would've figured it out by now."

That seemed to satisfy your classmates, for they nodded and headed back outside. Probably heading home or playing with their friends, you guessed.

You checked your pocket watch for the time, only to find that it was now 4:00 PM. Sighing, you rested your head on the desk and napped. You wished that, at times like these, your parents would've pushed away at least a few minutes from work just to take you home. But times had probably changed…

"[_first name_]? Love, wake up. It's me."

Turning your head into a tilt, you woke up to see familiar green eyes staring at you curiously. Realizing the person, you suddenly leapt up to give him a hug. He blushed into a deep red, but eventually gave you a small embrace.

"Hey England, how come you're here?" You looked up and asked.

England rolled his eyes while pushing your chair away. "America was told to pick you up from school, but he must've been late…" He grumbled a bit, muttering 'that bloody git' somewhere along the lines. "So I decided to take you home instead."

You laughed softly, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Well, that is alright. After all, it is just you and me…" You let your voice lower down into a slightly seductive and mischievous tone before starting to kiss him. At least, you _almost_ did when-

"Hey [_first name_]! Sorry that I- [_first name_], IGGY, CAN'T YOU TWO GET A ROOM ALREADY?"

America came into the classroom, covered in smears of dust and dirt. But beneath the mess, the two of you stopped to see his completely shocked face.

"A-America, you bloody idiot!" England scolded, his face burning up with embarrassment. "What did I tell you about sticking your nose into people's business?"

"Pfft~! Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know that. But I can't help it." The American smirked. "Plus, you two look so cute~"

Heading out of the room, you asked your friend, "How come you are so late? And what happened to you?"

"Mm?" He asked, gesturing at the dust and dirt on him. "Oh, this? Yeah, about that…. I was trying to make my way here, but then there were mobs of people all over the place… then I fell down. Twice." He explained, sweatdropping (at this point, he was glad that Canada was not there with him because otherwise, what if he was hurt?).

England sighed, almost resisting the urge to facepalm. "Wait until your president hears of this…" He said quietly, causing America to yell out, 'HEY!'.

"You two, we should head back." Gesturing the countries to the streets leading to your house, the three of you started walking. On the way, you passed by the three girls, who were skipping rope. They gaped in shock when they saw England, making you smirk and to stick out your tongue. With America chattering on about random things (airplanes, Broadway, etc..), you skipping and humming a song, and England trying to switch between keeping America quiet and attempting to hold your hand at the same time. Between those moments, however, your throat felt a tad bit dry. Perhaps you might stop by a small shop nearby to buy some lemonade…

As you, America, and England went past a theatre, you saw a movie poster with the words "Saved from the _Titanic_". The woman in the poster looked strangely familiar at first…. You squinted to find that it was Dorothy Gibson, the actress you saw at _Titanic_. Then you heard the many voices of people nearby, huge lines crammed in the front.

"Pray tell, what is all of this commotion?" England spotted the increasing crowds. America stopped chatting to see what was going on as well.

"I don't know… but from the looks of it, it must be popular for a film." You said. You ran towards the crowds, hoping to find the shortest line available. "Come on, let's go check it out."

**Eugene: **So… um, it's not much but THIS IS THE OMAKE CHAPTER! There will be part 2 of this, don't worry. Anyway, to the non-flamers out there, please type out a reminder to check for spelling errors, because I need help remembering to do so….


	12. OMAKE CHAPTER PART 2: May 15, 1912

You, England, and America did not expect the place to be so crowded. Perhaps the film was actually quite popular, you assumed as you all managed to find seats. Most of the spectators in the room were men, although a few brought in women at their sides. Their wives, maybe? Lovers? You weren't completely sure, for you mainly focused on getting yourself comfortable before the film started.

"Hey, if this film is about _Titanic_, then what do you think might be going on in there?" America started to ask as he eyed everyone else either attempting to find spots or to meet up with other chaps.

"Hopefully something that actually portrays the voyage." Came Arthur's reply. Despite the hectic crowds that swarmed the room, the British nation somehow managed to stay calm in those circumstances.

"Shh! The films are starting! A debonair gentleman suddenly shushed, causing everyone else to be silent and to scramble for remaining seats. Moments after the room grew pitch black with very little light, the first few silent films played. Many varied in different genres, but nevertheless, they were all enjoyable (despite the lack of monochrome colours and other factors). After a couple minutes of allowing the short films to share the screen, "Saved from the _Titanic_" began to play, the intertitles rolling in.

From what you could remember from the film, Dorothy was shown playing bridge in one of the first-class saloons before retiring to her cabin the night _Titanic_ got hit by the iceberg. At the scene of the collision, a long, drawn, sickening scrunch screeched out to indicate what the collision sounded like in her memories (in your experiences from the voyage, however, it sounded quite worse than that). After investigating, she had managed to escape with her mother when the water was flooding the ship's boiler rooms and as the deck started to tip over. The lifeboat she was in, Lifeboat 7, didn't have a plug during the sinking so water started to gush in (did _that _actually happen a month ago?), but luckily for Dorothy and the other survivors, they remedied the issue by sealing the hole with volunteer contributions from women's lingerie (England almost screamed a 'Bloody Hell!' at that scene) and men's garments. The sinking must've affected Dorothy herself, for she kept saying 'I'll never drive in my little gray car again' in her hysteric state. A long flashback recounting the events soon came and it ended with the marriage of Dorothy and her fiancé, Ensign Jack (he appears to be a fictional character).

"T-That was.." You started, but then found it a struggle to finish your sentence. "That was…."

"Unbelievable?" England guessed with uncertainty; although he was not completely sure of what you were thinking, he seemed to understand how you might be feeling right now.

"Y-Yeah…"

"Well, would you look at that!" Another gentleman, a red-faced stout one this time, exclaimed, pointing at the screen. "This new film is actually filmed ON _Titanic_!" Sure enough, everybody else in the dark room, both men and women, were all surprised at what was now showing on film. The title was showing and it displayed the following words:

**Fighters and Lovers of the Sea**

**A Short Film Created by Daniel Marvin**

**Filmed Straight from RMS **_**Titanic**_

Then another image in the screen revealed the only two actors starring:

**Starring Arthur Kirkland and [**_**Full Name **_**(**_**First Name and Last Name**_**)]**

"Hey…." Your eyes widened at the sight of the title. You immediately turned to England, whose reactions looked quite similar to yours. "Is this film actually…?"

"I-I-" A sigh broke his stuttering, causing him to quietly exhale some of the surrounding air. "Apparently, it somehow made it."

"What? What made it? Come on, TELLLL MEEEEEEE!" America kept questioning, flailing his arms around to catch yours or England's attention. As much as you found this position annoying, considering that the surprisingly new film was starting to play, at least his voice was quiet…. England had to prop him down into his seat like a jack-in-the-box as a result of the American's actions.

This other film portrayed you and England sword fighting against each other in a large vessel (or in this case, _Titanic_ herself). The two of you actually resembled, not just as Peter Pan and Captain Hook, but more like two equal pirates struggling to dominate one of the other. Despite the clothing, you two would've made excellent sea fighters. While clashing against each other with swords (that was strange; you and England originally had imaginary swords; Mr. Marvin had probably added them in at some point, although you weren't sure exactly _how_) and chasing around all over the place, it somehow resulted into that kiss from earlier, only for you to plunge the Englishman into defeat with your pretend sword.

To your surprise, everyone else in the almost-dark room, including America, actually enjoyed this short movie. Every few seconds, the men would cheer for England to win, whilst the women would encourage you to defeat him. There would be gasps of shock, whoops, whistling, and cries of 'Bloody hell!', 'Oh my god!', and 'Watch out!'. America appeared to be voting for you rather than his former caretaker, much to England's slight irritation, but you didn't mind one bit. The women would giggle and let out soft 'Aww~"s while the men whistled (they reminded you of Mr. Fleet and Mr. Lee at this rate) at the sudden moves and your flustered face on the screen. However, the men's reactions suddenly shifted into groans when you were officially declared the winner. At this, the women cheered and clapped their hands, delighted at this change of victory.

After the film was over, the room instantly brightened up and everyone, including you, England, and America, left. A ray of sunlight shined through the glass and it temporarily blinded you for the first few minutes, having to stay in that dark room for so long.

"Ya know, 'Saved from the Titanic" was really neat, but I'm surprised you and [_Name_] were acting in that other film, Artie." America exclaimed once he grabbed England's shoulder to face him.

"Well, it wouldn't be this surprising if either of us were informed beforehand-" England started to say before a voice interrupted him.

"Pardon our intrusion, but are you Mr. Arthur Kirkland?"

To his surprise, he turned around to see a man with graying hair and a young woman with long, wavy blond hair and very red lips. They both dressed in casual wear and appeared to be carrying a pad of paper and a pencil with them. Despite this, you weren't completely sure of why were they here or what do they want with England.

"Er, yes…" He said with a hint of uncertainty and suspicion. "And who are you two…?"

"Ah, allow me to introduce myself. My name's Mr. Cameron." The man started, and then he gestured to the woman next to him. "And this is Mrs. Dion, a co-worker of mine."

Mrs. Dion nodded in agreement, while looking into your eyes. "And you are [_Full Name _(_First Name and Last Name_)], am I correct?" She smiled as she said those words.

"A-Ah, yes I am." You stuttered a bit while attempting to do a short yet sweet curtsy. "Pray tell, what brings you two here."

"Are you two _Titanic_ survivors?"

Those very words made you and England stood still; how did they figure it out? Were they spies? Highwaymen? Assassins? Somehow, this question made you feel uneasy and panicky. But then after looking at them, then their pads and pencils, and then you faced them again. All of a sudden, your realizations clicked on your head.

"_Reporters_. _They are reporters_." You noted as you eyed them again. "Yes, me and Arthur were the ones who… um, survived from _Titanic_. But why must you two ask this peculiar question?" You asked boldly, stepping forward as you did so.

"Well, for starters," Mr. Cameron started, wiping some sweat off his forehead, the small watery drops growing due to the air from the slightly hot room. "did you notice how the other reporters wrote about the other survivors since the sinking?"

Now that Mr. Cameron had mentioned it, you remembered reading the accounts and memoires of the remaining survivors written by newspaper reporters and authors. Not all of them were exactly accurate, however, as they either changed their personalities, the highlights of the sinking, or what they did when Titanic hit the iceberg. Even if they were interesting to read, you and England wished that there would be more honesty behind those stories…

"Most of them contain nothing but lies." Arthur stated with disapproval; he didn't exactly trust what people wrote in the other's accounts, as they weren't exactly true (at least, from how you remembered it). "What, are you planning to do the same thing?"

"For the most part, not exactly." Mrs. Dion said, fiddling around with the pencil cradled between her fingers. "We do gather whatever information we can find from other survivors, but we do not edit them to our likings; it's highly unnecessary. Mr. Cameron and I prefer to keep them honest and truthful when it comes to publishing them for the papers."

"So… you all never create any fakes ones?" America questioned, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

"No. Absolutely not."

"As far as we know, neither you nor Arthur was interviewed recently for any details of the sinking." Mr. Cameron explained. "So we thought that, with your permission, we could record your own accounts on the sinking…"

There was a long, painful silence at the moment, since the theater was now almost empty (except for a few people still wandering around). Before you could even say your answer, America suddenly grabbed yours and England's shoulders and the three of you ended up huddling against each other.

"Iggy, we can't just let your identity exposed like that!" America hissed at his older brother-like-figure.

"I know that, you bloody idiot!" England snapped quietly.

"But we also can't tell them that [_Name_] knows about the whole country-thing…"

You whispered quietly. "You have a point, Alfred." You had to use his human name as you said this statement, in case if anyone else had heard you speaking. "But what can we do about it?"

Now that you had thought about it, you remembered your parents answering this one question you asked about the countries not appearing in the papers. They had tried to explain to you about exposure and how it may affect them if the secret of their true identities were revealed to all the citizens. Although you cannot grasp the reason completely, you do understand how all of them would feel if they were caught. I mean, history would not move on with their own citizens watching their every move. They would be creeping around in every corner, stalking them and interfering in their lives. And you sensed it as a bad thing.

On the other hand, however, no one would like it if they would find a fake story in the news one day. Without real evidence, how else everyone in the world would know that _Titanic_ actually exists as well as what was it like or what happened when it collided with the iceberg. Besides, it would be better if the experiences were told by a real survivor who even remembered one sliver of her life instead of a dreamer who could fantasize everything in reality. But…

"I will them everything-" You began to say in a whispery voice.

A sigh came out from England's lips, now terribly dreading your next words. "No, [_Name_], we absolutely cannot-"

"-but I will still keep your real names." You cut him off, finishing your sentence with the other half of the official statement. England and America's eyes widened at your idea.

"Ya mean, like using our 'human' names?" America blurted in a whispery voice; his dropped jaw and awed voice clearly stated that he was shocked. You nodded in reply.

"I will not tell them of who you two really are…" You started to say. "but I _will _say that you two are part of my life." Then you turned to England, voice converting into a softer yet somewhat sultry tone. "Especially you, _Arthur_."

England was now conflicted in the whirlwind of doubt and trust; as much as he wanted to allow you to set the story straight, he wasn't sure if it was better off told in your words, rather than his. I mean, the subject matter may be a tad bit sensitive to some individuals as well as the survivors. He was also worried that you will give too much away to the reporters. But you would never do such a vile thing, exposing whatever you and America weren't comfortable with. Even if he only knew you for about a month now, a special bond was growing in that connection between you two. If that was the case, then-

"I understand." He finally whispered with a small smile appearing on his face.

"Yeah, go for it, [_Name_]!" America added in with a grin of his own. He also appeared to feel the same way England did.

With a nod and a display of calm and confidence, you told Mr. Cameron and Mrs. Dion, "I will tell the story, as… _Arthur_ thinks I can fully memorize and express my memories better."

After the five of you all moved to the other side of the theater so that it would not be so crowded and overwhelming in case of visiting viewers, you officially started to narrate your experiences on _Titanic_.

"It was two days ago before the start of her maiden voyage when my own journey began. At that time, I was close to reaching America when my chances had slipped away… it all changed with a ticket to _RMS Titanic _and a gentleman in the name of Arthur Kirkland…"


End file.
